Boy Genius
by Flaming Trails
Summary: Emmett Brown always knew he was different from his peers. He just didn't know how different, or the adventure that would result from him finally learning. Fusion fic with BTTF characters (Doc being aged down to teenager) in the Girl Genius universe; old fic being uploaded by popular request.
1. Introducing The Cast

**Boy Genius**

A Back To The Future/"Girl Genius" Crossover

By Flaming Trails

Prologue

_Dear Professors Foglio,_

_Greetings from Agatha Heterodyne and her companions. I've been following the news on your class on my life with great interest. I'm very glad to see that there's someone willing to give the facts on me, not just sensationalistic rumors. (Zeetha and Krosp appreciate this too, although Krosp thinks he should look more regal. Trust me, you've got him dead on.)_

_I noticed that you've reached the time period when I was with Master Payne's Circus of Adventure. As you know, my cousin, Emmett Von Braun, and his friends are due to appear soon. I've recently conversed with Emmett about this, and both he and I feel that, in preparation, you should prepare a series of lectures to help explain his role more fully. To whit, enclosed is the script of Emmett's story, suitable for illustration and publication in your fine textbooks._

_I hope your classes are going well. I'm glad Transylvania Polygnostic University had a place for one of us. If Dr. Merlot gives you any trouble, just write me and I'll come and set him straight. I've been dying to do that for YEARS._

_Sincerely,_

_Agatha Heterodyne_

Chapter 1

Monday, February 2nd, 1895

Hill Valley

1:18 P.M.

"Now, class, today we'll be learning how to repair and build simple steam engines. The basic principles involved in creating steam engines are. . . ."

Emmett Lathrop Von Braun allowed his mind to drift. Professor Sixton was a good teacher, but he had a tendency to drone on about things. No doubt he was about to explain each principle six times, just to make sure that everyone understood it. Emmett knew that soon the rest of the class would be in the same trance he was in. Besides, he already knew the basic principles of steam engines. He'd been secretly studying them outside of class, hoping to improve his performance. It was very simple, really – you used a heat source, usually a coal furnace, to vaporize a large amount of water, and then you fed the resulting steam through –

A hiss of pain escaped his lips. Emmett winced as he felt the beginnings of one of his famous migraines come on. _Damn it. . . ._ He closed his eyes tightly to shut out the outside world and cleared his mind. The pain slowly eased away. Emmett sighed and opened his eyes again. Luckily, no one had noticed his slight episode, being too focused on Professor Sixton. Or, more likely, they were so used to them, they didn't even care anymore.

Frustrated, Emmett glared down at his notepaper. _Bloody headaches. Why do they only come when I'm doing anything related to this class? I'm fine – mostly – when it comes to languages, literature, and abstract mathematics. But when it comes to my science classes, I fall to pieces! I simply don't understand it._

Professor Sixton finally wrapped up his lecture. "All right, now for the practical application. Henry?" Henry, Professor Sixton's assistant, wheeled in a cart filled with miniaturized steam engines. "Your task today is to repair these engines. Don't worry, it's nothing complicated – just the odd piece out of place or fractured part. You shouldn't have any trouble."

"At least, us _normal_ people shouldn't," one boy, with thin greasy hair and horrid teeth, said, winking at Emmett. The class tittered.

Professor Sixton gave the boy a stern look. "That will be enough, Mr. Needles. Everyone come up and fetch an engine – they're not too heavy."

The class rose in a disorganized jumble and headed for the front of the room. Emmett selected an engine at random and picked it up nervously. _Will – will I actually be able to do it this time? Will I finally be able to fix something?_ He straightened his back. _I have to try. Even if I get another one of those headaches, I have to try. I'm _not _going to fail this time._

He sat down at his desk, took off his coat, and rolled up his sleeves. _Let's see now, what could it be,_ he thought, giving it a look-over. _Hopefully it'll be something very simple – perhaps a broken piston? I'm sure I could manage something like that. Heck, perhaps I could even make some improvements –_

He winced again as another jolt of pain hit him. Although it was annoying, it was also a good reminder that ingenuity wasn't appreciated in this class. You were expected to do just what the lesson taught you – no more, no less. It was the only way Professor Sixton was allowed to teach the class. In fact, it was the only way that the college could even exist. There could be no major redesigns of what already existed, no new ideas, nothing that could be construed in any way as possibly "Sparky."

Because if there was one thing Hill Valley hated, it was a Spark.

Emmett shook his head to clear it. _Concentrate on the repair,_ he told himself sternly. _You have to concentrate on getting this done right._ He went back to examining the engine, doing his best to ignore the rapidly-growing pain in his head. _The boiler looks all right – I wonder how it operates at such a small size? – the pistons – appear to be in – in good working order, steam – steam feed pipes – acceptable – ex-except – are those – sstressss –_

"OWWWW! AUGH! OWWWW!"

Emmett clutched at his scalp, screaming as the pain hit him full force. His fellow students looked up, attracted by the noise. Needles giggled and elbowed his friend Biff Tannen. "And so the show starts!"

"Mr. Von Braun!" Professor Sixton jogged over to Emmett's desk. "Not again! Henry, fetch me a cold cloth." He put his hands on Emmett's shoulders. "Relax, Emmett. Clear your head."

Emmett released his scalp and let his head thud onto the desk, whimpering as the pain finally began to ease. He could hear some of his classmates snickering. "Yup, crazy Emmett at it again."

"Why does he even bother? He's never going to make it through at this rate," Tannen said.

Emmett lifted his head a little. "I love the work," he replied, glaring at Tannen.

"Loving and doing are two different things, Von Braun."

Emmett was prevented from answering by Henry pushing him back in his chair and pressing a cold cloth to his head. Much as he hated to admit it, though, his classmate was right. As much as Emmett loved science and building, he seemed utterly unable to _do_ anything related to the subject. He couldn't even theorize on anything related to science without getting a blinding headache. It was _extremely_ frustrating, to say the least.

Professor Sixton shushed the class. "Feeling better Emmett?" Emmet nodded, gently pushing away Henry's hand. "Good. I'll excuse you from this lesson. We don't want anything else bad to happen."

Emmett caught onto Sixton's unspoken message. "Wait a minute! I – I think I had it this time! I bet I could repair it before being incapacitated again! It looks to be a problem with the – ow – steam feed pipes!" he said quickly, pausing as his headache began to reassert itself.

Sixton patted his shoulder soothingly. "Repair it, maybe. But repair it correctly? Emmett, you have to admit, it's a longshot. Especially given your – um – previous track record."

"I didn't _mean_ for that clock to explode! I just made a mistake!"

"Yes, but I don't want anyone getting hurt if you make a mistake here. Hot steam is very dangerous. I'd hate to have to send you to the nurse. Again."

The class laughed. Cheeks burning red, Emmett put his head on the desk again. "I'm not trying to be – to put it colloquially – a screw-up," he mumbled into the wood.

Needles roughly poked him in the ribs. "Well, Von Braun, it's all that you seem to be good for."

"Leave him alone, Mr. Needles," Sixton said sternly. "All of you, get back to work." The other boys grumbled and went back to fixing their own engines. Sixton looked over at Emmett. "By the way, the problem _was_ with the steam feed pipes. They're starting to warp and crack from age." Emmett looked up at him, surprised. "I still don't think you should attempt to repair it, but hey – it's progress, right?"

Emmett smiled slightly and nodded. "Yes, it is. Thank you sir." Sixton smiled and went back to making the rounds. Emmett sighed and eyed the engine before him. _Why do you mock me so?_ he thought angrily. _Why let me come that close?_

Finally, after exactly one hour, 33 minutes, and 29 seconds of frustrated hell for Emmett, class was over. Emmett quickly gathered his materials and fled the classroom. He had learned from experience that if he didn't move fast, he became an easy target for his bulkier classmates. He didn't particularly feel like getting beaten up today.

He pushed his way through the crowds on campus, heading for the front gate. One of the guards met him there, an imposing bald fellow aptly named Strickland. "Student ID number?" he demanded.

"85558515," Emmett rattled off.

Strickland nodded and checked his pocket watch. "Leaving early today," he noted. "I hope you're not turning into a slacker."

"No sir, one of my teachers is ill. His class was canceled today."

"I see. Well, you're free to go," Strickland said, opening the gate. Unconvincingly, he added, "Have a nice day."

"You too, sir." Emmett sighed as he walked out the front gate and onto the street. _Whew. Glad that's over with. Strickland makes me nervous sometimes. Good thing he's a guard, not a teacher._

Emmett walked up the street and entered the town square, wondering what to do now. The square was busy at this time of day – the streets were full of people visiting the shops or the courthouse, lounging in the park, chatting with friends, and attempting to control any overeager children. Occasionally a horse or carriage would trot down the road. Hill Valley was a small town by most people's standards, but it was a busy one.

The sound of guitar music caught Emmett's attention. Looking around, he noticed a large group of people gathered in front of Madame Wells's "Clothes for Gentlemen." Oddly enough, none of them appeared to be looking in the window. Intrigued, Emmett jogged over and joined the crowd.

Standing in front of Madame Wells's shop was a boy about Emmett's age, although a good foot shorter, strumming a guitar and singing – a song about the Heterodyne Boys, Emmett realized. The teen's clothes were rather threadbare – the right knee on his trousers had worn out completely – and there was a hat in front of him, obviously for collecting money. Emmett felt a swell of pity. _His family must be very poor if he has to do this. Assuming he even _has_ a family._

Still, the teenager was very good at what he did. Everyone broke into applause as he finished his song. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all week! Tell your friends!" He held up his hat. "And please, remember to make a donation."

Most people laughed and dropped a coin or two into the hat before going on their way. Emmett walked up to the boy. "That was quite a performance," he grinned, pulling out a few coins of his own. "You're really good."

"Thanks. I've been practicing ever since I was little." He grinned as Emmett dropped his coins in, then checked the hat. His eyes widened. "Uh, sir, I think you put a little too much in."

Emmett blinked a little at being called "sir." "What makes you say that?"

"Well – that's – gold, isn't it?"

"Yes. Believe me, you're that good."

An astonished smile appeared on the teen's face. "Well – thanks," he said, eyes wide. "I never got that much from anyone before." He held out his hand. "I'm Marty McFly. I just came into town a couple of days ago."

"Emmett Von Braun," Emmett introduced himself, shaking hands. "You can call me Emmett."

"Okay. Thanks again, Emmett. Hopefully now I can afford to buy some new clothes – these are getting pretty worn out." Marty produced a money purse and emptied the change into it. "Then again, it might be a better idea to buy more food. . . ."

A carriage thundered by. Marty and Emmett both stared after it. "Wonder why he's in so much of a hurry," Emmett said.

"Got me. Maybe he's late for something." Marty frowned a little. "I know this is a small town, but I haven't seen _any_ mechanical transportation around. Doesn't your ruling Spark do anything with that?"

"No, mostly because he's been dead for a number of years," Emmett deadpanned. Marty looked surprised. "There was a revolt when I was just a baby, and we managed to kill the Spark. Since then, we've dedicated our lives to ridding the town of any Spark influence. You won't see any clanks or anything like that around here. I think a few people would even dare to tell off Baron Wulfenbach if he came here."

Marty whistled. "Wow."

"Yes, we're a rather oddball town. I think the only reason Baron Wulfenbach hasn't come after us is because we killed the Spark before he set up his Peace, and we don't bother anyone else with our attitude. Don't worry though – as long as you don't mention anything about technology or Sparks, you should be fine."

Marty suddenly looked worried, glancing around at the passers-by. "But everyone seemed to like my Heterodyne Boys song. . . ."

"Oh, they're all right – even here they're seen as heroes." Emmett grinned. "My mother says that they even stopped here to make some final plans before going off to confront the Other. Everyone likes the Heterodyne boys."

"Lucky for me," Marty said with a slight grin. He put down his hat and picked up his guitar again. "Thanks for the warning. Are you gonna stick around for the next show? It's 'The Heterodyne Boys and The Race to the West Pole.'"

"I can't – I have homework," Emmett said sadly.

"Homework? You seem a little old for school."

"We have a college here – it's a remnant of the days of the Spark. From what I've heard, Hill Valley wanted to prove you could have one and not have it turn into a Spark-producing machine. They teach only the most basic classes."

"Oh. That's kind of – weird, isn't it?"

"I know. But it's better than having no college at all." Emmett smiled at Marty. "I'll stop by tomorrow and see if I can catch another act. You're quite the performer – and that tune you put it too, while unusual, is pretty catchy."

"Thanks. I made it up myself while on the road. Glad to hear that people like it." Marty strummed a few random notes. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Nice meeting you, Emmett."

"Same here, Marty. Good luck with your show." Emmett walked off, grinning. _Well, that was nice! I haven't met someone that I felt that comfortable talking to for a while. Not since Holly anyway. I'll have to make a point of stopping by tomorrow and continuing the conversation._

He decided to take a look at his homework for the day. _I don't have anything from Language Studies, that was canceled. . . . Just some reading on proofs in Abstract Mathematica. . . . And of course no homework from Basic Mechanics, that's all hands-on work._ Emmett scowled as he recalled the steam engine. _Damn it! I was so close today! I almost had it! Warped steam feed lines – all I would have had to do was straighten them out and check for cracks –_

It annoyed him that he was getting a mild headache even just _thinking_ about a simple repair. _For Newton's sake, I'm not even trying to improve on the design. Although, really, it did seem pretty inefficient. You could probably tighten up a few things, put the exhaust pipe below the moving parts so it doesn't interfere, perhaps have one main steam feed – pipe th-that – branches out –_

_No, damn it! I'm _not_ going to succumb this time! I'm going to do this! Steam feed pipe that – br-branches out – in-inside, and maybe an – al-al-alternate – heat – s-source – for the – boiler – cl-cleaner fuel – or s-s-solar p-p-poooowwww –_

Monday, February 2nd

2:21 P.M.

"All right, everyone, this is 'The Heterodyne Boys and the Race for the West Pole!'"

Marty's expert fingers immediately found the proper chord and started playing. Marty grinned, swept up in the thrill of making music. This is what he lived for. After letting everyone get used to the tune for a moment, he began to sing:

"Now I'll bet you've heard the tales about the Heterodyne Boys

Bill and Barry, young geniuses, playing with their toys

Built themselves some constructs named Judy and Punch

Then Klaus came along and joined the bunch

And now they're all racing for the West Pole

Yeah, they're all racing for the West Pole

One time poor old Barry nearly fell down a hole

But yeah, they're all racing for the West Pole

Now this guy named Dr. Mongfish was so bad

Built lots of evil robots, was such a cad

His daughter Lucrezia was the same way

And when–"

"AAUUGGHH!"

Marty nearly jumped out of his skin, his fingers hitting the wrong notes as he lost his groove. "What the hell?" he said, looking around.

He quickly spotted the source of the scream – a young man on his knees in the middle of the street, clutching his head in pain. With a jolt, Marty recognized him as Emmett, the teen he'd been talking to only minutes before. "Holy shit, Emmett! Uh – sorry folks, this is going to take a minute." He set down his guitar and jogged over to the teenager. "Emmett! Are you all right?"

Emmett didn't respond. He had stopped screaming, although he was still clutching his scalp tightly. "Oww. . .okay, okay, I'll stop," he muttered to himself, tears welling in his eyes.

Marty dropped to his knees, starting a little at the feel of the cold stone against his skin. "Emmett? Buddy?"

Emmett finally noticed him as he looked up. His face turned bright red as he massaged his scalp. "Oh – hi Marty," he muttered, looking away.

"Emmett!"

Marty looked up to see a girl racing towards them, a worried look on her face. She dressed entirely in black, and had long black hair that made her skin seem unusually pale. She dropped to her knees beside Emmett as well, taking no notice of Marty. "Not again. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm – I'm better now." Emmett shook his head. "You think that one of these days, I would learn. . . ."

The girl stroked Emmett's hair for a moment. "Yes, you would think so," she said teasingly. "But you never do."

She suddenly noticed Marty and frowned. "Hello. Who are you?"

"Name's Marty McFly. Who are you?"

"Holly Handlen. I'm a friend of Emmett here." Her grey eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you doing here? You weren't trying to beat him up, were you?"

"No!" Marty snapped, insulted. "I was playing some music when I heard him start screaming. Can't a guy be concerned for somebody?"

"It's okay, Holly," Emmett said, before Holly could respond. "He's telling the truth. You know that if he was trying to hurt or rob me, he'd be long gone by now."

"Good point." Holly blushed. "Sorry Mr. McFly. I'm a little protective of him. We've learned that most people won't hesitate to take advantage of him in this state."

"It's all right," Marty said, his own temper cooling. "I guess you would think the worst when there's a complete stranger by your friend's side."

Emmett had recovered enough to get back to his feet. He noticed that the new crowd Marty had gathered was starting to disperse. "You'd better get on with your show," he warned.

"It's okay – thanks to your little donation from before, I've got plenty." Marty helped Holly brush him off. "What happened to you anyway? I was talking to you just a little while ago, and you were fine then."

Emmett looked embarrassed. "Just a migraine," he said quietly. "I get them from time to time. I was trying to concentrate on a certain subject, to work through it, but I couldn't." Emmett turned to Holly, his expression almost pleading. "I _had_ it, Holly. I know I did. I just couldn't think through the pain."

Holly patted his back fondly. "You really have to stop doing this to yourself, Emmett. It's not good for you."

"I know, but–"

"Hey! What is this?!"

All three heads jerked towards Madame Wells's shop. Madame Wells herself had appeared, and was scowling at Marty's guitar and hat. "Who is _begging_ in front of my shop?" she demanded in a thick French accent. "You're driving away business!"

"Sorry, sorry, my fault," Marty said, quickly going to get his things.

Madame Wells glared at him. "Every day more riff-raff," she snapped. "Your whole family beg on the streets, boy?"

Marty stiffened. "No, ma'am," he said, keeping his voice under tight control. "Just me."

"He wasn't begging, he was putting on a show!" Emmett snapped. He didn't like Madame Wells anyway, and to see her treating someone who had helped him like that was intolerable. "A damn good one too! If anything, he was _attracting_ business!"

"Shut up! If I want–"

Madame Wells stopped as she got her first good look at Emmett. A nervous smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hello Emmett dear. How's your mother?"

"She's fine," Emmett said shortly. "Look, please leave him alone. I've heard Marty's singing, and he's excellent. You should be paying him to bring people in."

Marty stared at Emmett, obviously shocked that he was doing this. Madame Wells, not noticing, looked Marty over uncertainly. "In _those_ clothes?"

"I'm on the road a lot," Marty snapped, turning his attention back to her. "Things wear out."

"You couldn't spare one outfit from your shop?" Emmett added.

Madame Wells sniffed. "You shouldn't be associating with those kind of people anyway," she said haughtily. Marty was puzzled to see her glaring at _Holly_.

"If being part of _your_ class means having to become a bitchy snob, I'll stay poor," Holly retorted, folding her arms. "And strangely enough, I believe my family's got more clout with the mayor than you'll ever have. Or have you forgotten how my mother saved his daughter's life?"

Madame Wells turned a shade of red so dark it was almost violet. "Stay away from me!" she snapped. "The whole lot of you!" Turning to Marty, she added, "And if I see you here again, I'll call the guard on you!" She stormed into her shop and slammed the door.

The teens looked at each other. Marty picked up his guitar and hat. "Well, that's the end of that," he shrugged.

Emmett put his face in his hand. "I'm sorry about that, Marty."

"Why are _you_ sorry?" Marty asked, puzzled. "I've been kicked out of plenty of places for this. I'll just go and set up shop somewhere else now."

"Yes, but I feel I made things worse by trying to defend you. If I embarrassed you in any way–"

"Oh, no," Marty said, smiling. "I sing on the street – I think most people realize that I'm poor. And thanks for defending me like that. I haven't had anyone do that for me before."

Emmett smiled back. "You're quite welcome. You helped me when I had my headache, so I felt an obligation to help you as well."

"Hey, like I'm going to let such a well-paying customer suffer," Marty winked.

The three of them laughed. "So, what exactly brings you to Hill Valley Marty?" Holly asked, interested.

"My work – I'm a traveling minstrel," Marty said, holding up his guitar. "I go from town to town and sing. My speciality is stuff about the Heterodyne Boys."

"That's interesting. Does anyone else in your family join you?"

Marty's smile faded. "No," he said quietly. "I'm an orphan."

Holly looked horrified. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, turning pink. "I really shouldn't have asked that."

"No, it's okay. My parents died about a year ago in a town called Grass Valley. And my older brother and sister moved away long before that. I've been on my own for a while now."

Emmett and Holly looked at each other. "That sounds rather lonely," Emmett said sympathetically.

"It can be. But I've gotten used to it. I can take care of myself. And besides, I was always kinda the odd one out in my family anyway. It happens with five people."

"That sounds a little like my own situation," Emmett admitted. "I'm the odd one out in my family as well. I'm just missing the older brother."

"Aha! I knew I'd find you eventually!"

"The older sister, however. . . ."

A second girl joined them, this one dressed in pink. Her long brown hair was done up in two pigtails, which hung over her shoulders. "I take it your Language Studies professor is still ill."

"Yes, Professor Zemeckis is still sick," Emmett nodded. "I was heading home when I stopped to talk to Marty here." Turning to Marty, he added, "Marty, this is my sister Emily Von Braun. Emily, Marty McFly."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McFly," Emily said politely, extending her hand.

"Likewise," Marty said, shaking it. "And call me Marty, please. When I hear 'Mr. McFly,' I automatically think of my father." Emmett and Holly both winced slightly.

Emily smiled understandingly. "I'm the same way with 'Miss Von Braun.'" She looked over at Emmett. "Seeking some male company for once?"

"You know I love sharing time with you and Holly," Emmett grinned. "I was attracted by Marty's musical talents; he's a minstrel. A very good one too."

"Yeah, your brother showed his appreciation, and we got to talking," Marty shrugged. "Then while I was starting a new song, I heard screaming, and–"

"Oh, Emmett, not again!" Emily interrupted, smacking her palm against her head.

"Emily, I _had_ it this time!" Emmett insisted. "I really did! If I could just figure out a way to work through the pain, I'd be fine!"

Emily put a hand on Emmett's arm. "But you _can't_ work through the pain. That's the problem."

"Emily, I – I just can't give it up. . . ."

"I know, but you can't keep torturing yourself like this either."

"Uh – can I ask what you're talking about?" Marty asked, puzzled. "Because that doesn't sound like a normal migraine to me."

"It isn't," Emmett groaned. "My migraines only occur when I'm concentrating on anything scientific. And, unfortunately for me, I was born with a thirst for science. What you saw before was me trying to get creative with something that happened in one of my classes today."

Marty grimaced. "You picked the wrong town to be born in, didn't you?"

"The wrong town? He picked the wrong _family_," Holly informed Marty. "Neither his mother nor his father like scientists at all."

"Well, Mother's more tolerant than Father," Emily said. "But then again, most people are more tolerant than Father."

"The whole of Europa Wulfenbach is more tolerant than Father," Emmett said. "I've – I've always just had these urges to build, to invent, to create. But I can't act on them. Either I get a terrible headache from attempting to concentrate, or on those rare occasions where I can actually build something, it invariably doesn't work. In fact, more often than not, it explodes." Emmett grabbed his hair in frustration. "I know what I want to do, I can see the plans in my head, but I can't execute them! It's like being trapped in some sort of prison!"

Marty discovered that he felt really bad for Emmett. _The poor guy. I hate it when I get a creative block, and it sounds like he's got one 24-7!_ He frowned to himself. _Jesus, when did I get so concerned about strangers? I've known him for what, a few minutes? Then again, he's really the only person to ever stay and talk to me after a show. And he's the only guy who ever defended my right to perform somewhere. And face it, McFly – when's the last time you got to hang out with anyone else your own age? Emmett's okay in my book._ He gave his fellow teen a sympathetic look. "That sounds terrible, Emmett. I'm sorry."

Emmett sighed and let go of his hair. "It's all right. Perhaps it's a sort of defense mechanism my brain came up with to keep my safe in this town. Sparks can get killed around here."

Marty shook his head. "What the heck does this town have against Sparks? Are they really all that bad?"

Emily looked at him strangely. "You _like_ Sparks?"

"My dad's fault," Marty said with a slight blush. "He was a huge fan of the Heterodyne Boys and Trelawney Thorpe and all the rest. He told me all the stories while I was growing up." He laughed. "He even made up a few of his own. I still remember 'The Heterodyne Boys and the Match Maker from Space.' That Darth Vader character was a riot. But yeah, I guess I stopped being afraid of them after hearing all those stories. I mean, I still have a very healthy respect for them – I mean, they _are_ kind of insane – but I'm not really that afraid. There has to be other good ones out there, right?"

"I would hope so," Holly said, with a funny little smile. "People around here have the opposite view – all Sparks are pure evil, all Sparks should be killed, go back to the old ways before Sparks–"

"Ha," Emmett said bitterly. "Old ways. For a Spark-hating town, we use our fair share of technology."

"It's called hypocrisy, Emmett."

"Even still, when you take into account most people around here agree with my father about things. . . ." Emmett sighed. "I really was born into the wrong town. I love being around machines. Just wish I could build a few." Much quieter, he added, "Almost wish I was a Spark."

Despite the somber mood the conversation had taken, Marty had to grin. "You know, it's been forever since I got to talk to anyone my own age. This – this has been really great." His grin turned into a smirk. "Though you all seem like a bunch of characters, I have to admit."

Everyone laughed. "Oh, you don't know the half of it," Holly said, almost teasingly.

"I'd like to. I'd like to have some friends again."

"Well then, why don't you come with us and we'll give you the grand tour of the town," Emmett offered, shifting his books to wave an arm. "And you can tell us all about your music and your adventures on the road."

"I'm sold. Lead on."


	2. Friends Made & Home Procured

Chapter 2

Monday, February 2nd, 1895

Hill Valley

3:12 P.M.

"And, of course, the kid turns out to be the mayor's only son. So I get to spend three nights in jail for fighting, and I have to leave town as soon as I get out. Not my best performance."

Emmett laughed. "I can imagine. You've had quite the exciting life, haven't you?"

"Just this past year on the road," Marty shrugged. "When I lived with Mom and Dad, things were pretty boring. I barely even thought about the world outside our village. In fact, I had no idea that the world was this _big_ until I started traveling."

"I know," Emily nodded. "It's hard for me to imagine being any place but Hill Valley. Our family has lived here for years."

"The Von Braun side, at any rate," Emmett qualified. "Who knows with Mother. She came to town as a solitary orphan, with no family to speak of."

Marty began to look a little uneasy. "Your family's important around here, isn't it?"

Emmett groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is. We're 'old money,' which is a fancy way of saying we're the richest family to ever live here. Our fortune has just compounded over each generation."

"Wow."

Holly put her arms around the two boys. "And yet they associate with little old me, who's on the absolute opposite end of the monetary scale. Emmett and Emily aren't stuck up at all, Marty, you should know that by now."

"I know, I know, but – well, no one back in Grass Valley was really that rich. We were all more or less equal when it came to money. How much money do you guys have?"

Emmett and Emily looked at each other. "Well, we've just turned onto our street," Emmett said as they rounded a corner. He pointed. "There's my house."

Marty's eyes went wide. "Um – Emmett? That's not a house. That's a mansion."

"Yes. Yes it is."

"You live in a _mansion_?! Jesus Christ, Emmett, you're one step away from a castle! I've only seen those sorts of homes in books!" He openly gawked, trying to take in everything at once. "Wow! And you have your own stables too?"

"Yes – you must have seen stables before."

"Yeah, but small ones, not ones like this. This is amazing. No wonder Madam Wells tried to get on your good side." He glanced nervously back at his new friends. "Honestly, I'm a little intimidated. I've never known anyone who's had it this good."

"Trust me, it isn't that good," Emmett said quietly, looking at his shoes.

"What? Come on, there's a _downside_ to having all the money you could ever need or want?"

"Well, let's see. One, like you said, most people feel intimidated by my wealth and thus avoid my company. Two, those who aren't intimidated by it tend to be angry with me because they don't feel I deserve it. Three, I've never had a proper girlfriend because most girls seem to see me as nothing more than an ambulatory moneybag – and the few who don't are scared off by my love of science. And four – frankly, it's rather boring being rich. You'd think we'd have all this time for adventure and learning – instead it's taken up with impressing people we don't know and have no real desire to see."

Marty fidgeted, embarrassed. "I see. I – I never thought about it like that."

Emmett smirked. "I don't think anyone does. I'm not saying that it's necessarily a _bad_ life. But for me, at least, it's a rather lonely one." His smirk turned into a sad frown. "I hate to say it, but I think Holly's the only real friend I have."

"Don't I count?" Emily asked, a mock-hurt expression on her face.

"Outside of the family, of course," Emmett said, patting his sister's shoulder.

"That I can kind of understand," Marty said sympathetically. "I had to leave all my old friends behind when my parents died."

"That's a shame. You think they'd stick by a friend in their time of need," Emily said sadly.

"Well, they were scared. My parents died under – unusual circumstances."

Emmett, Emily, and Holly knew better than to press. "I see. Well, I hope you feel at home with us now," Holly said kindly, gently squeezing Marty's shoulders. "My house is down at the other end of the street. Don't worry, it's nowhere _near_ as ostentatious as Emmett's."

"I wouldn't think so. Man, a mansion. . . . At least you always have plenty of space, right?"

"That is an advantage, yes," Emmett grinned. "If things aren't going well between me and Father, I can always retreat to a different part of the house – or to the stables. I think I spend more time in the stables than I do in the actual house, to tell the truth."

"You do," Emily said with a frown. "I wish you didn't, though."

"What else am I supposed to do? It's the only place where I can be myself, Emily. You know how Father is."

"Really anti-science, huh?" Marty guessed.

"You have no idea. My father hates almost _everything_ related to science. His only exception is the field of animal biology."

"Animal biology?" Marty quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

Emmett smirked again. "He's a veterinarian."

"You have all this money, yet he works."

"We didn't make the Von Braun fortune by sitting around. And the job keeps him out of our hair. He's – a bit volatile sometimes."

"Volatile?" Holly said disbelievingly. "Emmett, he's _crazy_!"

"He's not crazy! He's just – particular about whom he chooses to associate with," Emily said, shifting her weight from foot to foot uneasily.

"He's paranoid of almost everyone, you mean. The man trusts no one. Sparks and scientists are just at the top of the list. Then you have bankers, regular human doctors, farmers, my family–"

"Why wouldn't he trust your family?" Marty asked, curious.

The three friends shared a glance. "Well – he _is_ tolerant of Sparks," Emmett said slowly. "And he did help me when I got my headache. I think we can trust him."

"We _did_ just meet him though," Emily argued. "Are we sure he can be trusted with that sort of information? It took Holly a month to tell us."

"All I know is that I feel comfortable around him." Emmett looked at Holly. "It's your decision in the end. Do you want to tell him or no?"

Holly looked Marty straight in the eye. "Marty – were there ever any witch-burnings in your town?"

Marty looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "One, but I didn't see it personally. And afterwards she was revealed to have been slandered, so we didn't have any others. What, are you saying that you're a witch?"

"Yes I am. And before you say anything, my mother and I aren't evil entities bent on destroying the world. I haven't met Satan personally or anything like that. The witchcraft is just a family trait that we use to make a living – selling good luck potions and the like. Not one of our customers has complained of a bad side effect ever. We're basically just normal people with a gift."

"Oh, so you're Mad Chemists!"

"Yes – no!" Holly said, obviously a little startled. "We're witches, not Sparks. We just happen to do a lot of potions."

Marty smirked. "Come on, we all know that most 'witches' are really Sparks. Even the girl we ended up burning for being a witch was actually accused of being a Spark."

"My mother's not a Spark!" Holly snapped forcefully. "I swear, my mother is an ordinary human being when she's not practicing witchcraft. She knows very little about even regular science. Okay, so we're both good at chemistry, but that's _it._"

Marty held his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I just figured that you were using witchcraft to disguise Sparkiness." He paused. "Although that wouldn't be very effective, would it? Sorry."

"It's all right," Holly said, a little pink. "It's just that my mother and I are outcast enough from this town for the witchcraft. The only reason we're tolerated at all is because my mother was able to save Mayor Wilson's daughter's life when she was little. As a result, he's always championed our right to be here."

"I see," Marty said, frowning thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose witchcraft is no worse than Sparkiness – you only curse people who tick you off, right?"

Holly laughed. "Yeah, and most of the time not even then. Magic eats up your energy – it's easier just to get into a regular fight. You're safe." Marty snorted. "I'm surprised to find that you're so open-minded."

"Hey, when you've been to as many places as I have, you _have_ to be. I've seen plenty of strange stuff in my day. As long as I know you're not going to hex me for no reason."

"Swear to God." They reached the end of the street. Holly smiled and waved in front of them. "Ah, home sweet home."

Marty grinned in kind. "Hey, now _that_ I know."

Holly's home was a small cottage, painted a cheery yellow. A small line of strange symbols ran along the edge of the roof. To the left of the front door was a small vegetable garden; to the right, a well. Drawing water was a woman in her mid-30s, with the same long black hair that Holly possessed. She smiled at the group as they approached. "Hello Emily and Emmett! I'm just getting ready to bake some bread. Who's the boy with you?"

"This is Marty McFly, Mother," Holly said. "Marty, this is my mother, Rose Handlen. He knows about us, and he's okay with it."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Handlen," Marty said, shaking hands with the older woman. The resemblance between mother and daughter was remarkable. Rose was a little plumper than her daughter, and her eyes were more of a dark blue/violet color, but other than that, she could have been Holly 20 years older.

"Same here, Mr. McFly – or Marty, if you prefer. I haven't seen you before, are you new to town?"

"Yes, I just arrived a couple of days ago. I'm a traveling minstrel."

"A really good one too," Emmett added.

"I see. Where are you from originally?"

"Grass Valley. It's east of here by about 20 miles."

Rose frowned. "Grass Valley? Wasn't that the town that was mysteriously attacked by slaver wasps about a year ago?"

"That's right!" Holly said, snapping her fingers. "I remember now! First appearance of slaver wasps in years. And they couldn't find the engine either. Were you there when it happened, Marty?"

Marty swallowed, then closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I was. In fact, I was nearly right in the middle of it. We were having dinner when we learned about the swarm. Specifically, by Dad hearing this weird buzzing noise, going to investigate – and seeing a huge swarm of metallic wasps headed straight for our house. We panicked for a moment, then headed straight for the basement – we'd hollowed it out to store our canning. Mom insisted that I go down first." Marty swallowed again. "We didn't realize how fast a swarm can move. They hit the house right when I was headed down. The very last time I saw my parents, my mother was slamming and locking the door so they wouldn't get me."

Everyone stared, open-mouthed. "Marty. . .oh, Marty, I'm so sorry," Holly whispered, white.

"But – but I didn't – I didn't think slaver wasps _killed_ you–" Emmett stammered.

"They don't. But they do make you slaves of the Other, and most people think that's just as bad. I fell asleep crying in the basement, so I missed most of it, but apparently the townsfolk who escaped the swarm went kinda nuts. Once the slavers were destroyed, they promptly started going around killing all the new revenants. When I finally got out of the basement the next morning, my parents were lying dead on the kitchen floor and the mob was lynching anyone even suspected of being infected. I grabbed my guitar and some other essentials, and fled before they could find me. I've been on the run ever since." Tears welled up in Marty's eyes. "Damn it, I – I _know_ they wouldn't have wanted to live as revenants – but they didn't even give them a chance! They just _killed_ them! And they didn't even make it quick! They could have at least made it quick. . . ."

Emmett awkwardly put his arm around Marty as the teen began to cry. "We're sorry. We didn't mean to make you relive all of that."

"It's okay," Marty said, getting a handle on his emotions. "Probably better that you do know. I hate having to keep it all inside. Back home, I wasn't exactly Mr. Subtle."

"Slaver wasps," Emily whispered, shaking her head slightly. "And after that, you _don't_ hate Sparks?"

"Hey – a lot of Sparks may be crazy bastards, but they all tried to _stop_ the Other. I have to respect them for that."

"Yeah. Of course, people who can create giant carnivorous pea plants kinda inspire a healthy respect."

"Holly, this isn't the time to joke," Emily said with a glare.

"Au contraire, Emily. Any time's the right time to joke." Grinning at Marty, Holly added, "And I daresay our guest could use some cheering up."

Rose patted Marty's shoulder. "Come in and have some bread. You're with friends now."

"Thanks." Marty gave a short, humorless laugh. "You guys must think I'm a big crybaby now."

"For crying over your parent's deaths?" Emmett said. "Be logical, Marty. I'd be crying too."

"A year after it happened?"

"Even then. It's not the sort of thing you get over quickly, is it?"

"No," Marty admitted. "I mean, I kinda _had_ to, because I suddenly had to take care of myself, but – the pain's still there. In a big way."

Emily smiled comfortingly. "Well, as Mrs. Handlen said, you're with friends now. You're not alone anymore."

"I should say," Marty laughed. "I just came into town a couple of days ago, and already I have three new friends. Who I've only know for about an hour, I might add."

"With the way you've been talking, I feel like I've known you forever," Emmett pointed out as they went inside.

"Yeah, me too." Marty took a look around the cottage. They were currently in one big room that seemed to take up most of the house. There was a fireplace set into the far left wall, with a cauldron suspended inside of it. Next to it was a brick stove, some counters, and the pantry. A small dining table sat almost in the center of the room. On the right side was a very small bookshelf with a few books, some living chairs and something that resembled a couch – and what appeared to be a sort of chemistry set. "That's where we mix our potions," Rose explained, noticing Marty staring. "I don't like them to get too near the food."

"I see, good idea." He spotted a door opposite of them. "I take it that goes to the rest of the house?" he asked, pointing.

"Yes – 'rest of the house' being defined as my and Mother's bedroom, a bathroom, and a pen to keep our cow, Hecate, in," Holly said. "We're not fancy here by any means."

"I don't mind. I'm used to not fancy."

Rose clapped her hands. "Well now, who wants bread and butter?"

"That would be wonderful," Emily smiled.

"And maybe you could show us what you're brewing up afterwards?" Emmett asked hopefully.

"Emmett, I always say yes," Holly reminded him. "You don't have to pull out the puppy eyes."

Marty took a deep sniff as Rose cut up the bread. "Smells delicious, Mrs. Handlen."

"Thank you, Marty." Rose spread some butter on the slices and distributed them. "So, you're a traveling minstrel now? Where else have you been?"

"All over the place, it seems. . . ."

Soon the group was chatting animatedly again, Marty telling them more stories of his life on the road and Holly, Rose, Emily, and Emmett sharing stories about their lives in Hill Valley. By the time they had finished their snack, Marty had well and truly become one of them. "You don't talk much about your own family, Emmett," Marty noted as they got up and gave Rose their plates.

"I generally don't," Emmett said with a shrug. "You've really got to see them to believe them – especially my father. If you really want me to, I'll take you over to visit them after we're done here."

"I'd like that. I've always wanted to see how people like you live."

"Yeah, he wants to see how rich you really are," Holly said teasingly. "Anyway, come over here and I'll show you what I've got cooking." She led them over to the chemistry set. "Just be careful. We have some dangerous chemicals here."

"I assume that the flask with the skull and crossbones is one of them?" Marty asked, pointing.

Holly smirked. "Hydrochloric acid. Highly caustic, but one drop in a kettle of rose tea with cloves, and you've got yourself a nice love potion."

"What's this stuff?" Emmett asked, carefully examining a bottle of a midnight blue liquid.

"I brewed that up this morning," Holly said, taking it from him with a smile. "It's plant food, for our garden. I've been working on it for a while now." Her eyes gleamed. "This particular mix of nutrients should allow us to grow bigger, healthier vegetables. In fact, this part**icular mix should create vegetables of gigantic proportions!**" Her smile became almost evil. "**People from all over will come begging for our secret! We will rule the study of agriculture! And - Emmett, why do you keep elbowing me in the bloody side? I'm trying to-**"

Emmett pointed at Marty. Holly blinked. "Oh," she said, her voice going back to normal. "Yes. Right. Company."

They all looked at Marty, who was hiding his mouth behind his hand. For one moment, Emmett thought that they'd managed to drive away their new friend. Then he noticed Marty's eyes were crinkled up, and he was making soft snuffling sounds. . . . "Are you _laughing_?"

A snort escaped Marty's hand. "I'm sorry," he giggled. "It's just that you had the best expression. . .and it just hit me – you kept saying that your _mother_ wasn't a Spark. You never said anything about yourself."

Holly chuckled nervously. "Well, I figured I could keep you distracted enough not to notice. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"You guys have told me about five times already that this town doesn't appreciate Sparks. My lips are sealed," Marty promised. "Besides, I figure you could slip something into my food before I'd tell anyone."

"Smart boy," Holly grinned playfully. "But thanks. It's rare that I meet anyone willing to accept me as a Spark."

"Well, that voice is a little nerve-wracking," Emily said.

"I like it," Emmett said with a grin.

"You _would_."

"Were you scared when she Broke Through?" Marty asked Rose, interested.

"A little – she caused a number of explosions that first day," Rose confessed while Holly blushed. "But it's actually really helped with her magical studies, especially her potions. They're much stronger than anything I've managed to make."

"I suppose that's why that concoction of hers smells so much," Emily noted, waving a hand in front of her nose.

Holly dropped the grin and blushed harder. "Well, I extracted most of the ingredients from Hecate's manure. I'm working on eliminating the smell."

"I hope so," Marty said, holding his nose tightly. "What else have you got?"

"I'm still working on my pet impossible project – every Spark needs one. I'd really like to create an invisibility potion. So far, I've got one that silences footsteps, but I can't turn actual flesh invisible. It's a tricky case."

"I know. It would mean changing the light refrac – oww!" Emmett winced, then glared up at the ceiling. "It's a bloody sentence! I'm not going to try and figure it out! I'm just stating a fact! Damned headaches. . . ."

"I know what you were going to say," Holly said soothingly, patting his shoulder. "'Changing the light refraction tendencies of human flesh. I'm still working out the possibilities – I conquered the sound problem, right? And of course Mother and I have been brewing up our usual potions – love, luck, wealth, that sort of thing."

"I see," Marty said, nodding and smiling. "How much do you charge for one of your potions?"

"We're willing to haggle a little. We _prefer_ money, but we're not averse to getting paid in crops or other food items. Why, are you thinking of buying one?"

"Nah. I think I got my fair share of luck and wealth today, thanks to you guys, and I'm not looking for love at the moment. I was just curious."

"Well, if you ever want one, we give out the first sample free," Holly said kindly.

Emily looked at her wristwatch. "It's getting on to 4:00. We should probably go home."

Emmett pulled out his own pocket watch and double-checked. "3:48 and 21 seconds. You're right, Mother will probably be wondering where we've gotten to."

"Nice watch," Marty said, admiring it. "Real gold?"

"Yup," Emmett said proudly, letting Marty hold it. "A seventh birthday present from my mother. I've worn it ever since." He looked at it with a smile. "I don't know what the W design on it is for, though – must just be the maker's mark."

"Really nice. I've been relying on a lady's wristwatch on the road."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with wristwatches. I've worn them myself occasionally."

"Can you tell he loves clocks?" Emily said with a smirk.

"The passage of time has always fascinated me," Emmett explained. "I'd like to – well, my ultimate dream would be to _build_ a time machine, but considering my difficulties, I'll settle for finding one and using it to explore the space-time continuum. Plus clockwork is a main component in many clanks."

"Yeah, I've seen," Marty grinned. "Anyway, thank you very much for the food, Mrs. Handlen."

"My pleasure, Marty," Rose said warmly. "Come back anytime."

"Thanks. It was really nice meeting you, Holly. I hope to see you again."

"Trust me, you will," Holly said, shaking his hand. "If you plan on spending any time with Emmett at all, you will."

"Well then, I'll see you later. Good luck with your vegetable formula."

"Thank you." Holly hugged Emmett and Emily. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Good luck introducing him to _Mr._ Von Braun."

"We'll probably need it," Emmett admitted. "Good afternoon, Holly."

"Goodbye." After thanking Rose again, Emmett, Emily, and Marty started back to Von Braun Mansion. "I take it you don't think I'm going to be acceptable to dear old dad?" Marty asked as they walked.

"It's nothing personal, Marty," Emily explained. "Like we said, Father is very particular about who he associates with. He may simply not like you."

"I see," Marty said thoughtfully. "Well then, do you have any advice on how I should act?"

"Don't say _anything_ positive about Sparks," Emmett said immediately. "That's a big no-no in our family."

"Keep off the subject of bankers and people like that as well," Emily nodded. "He doesn't trust them much either."

"Don't look at Mother any more than you have to. Father can be a bit possessive at times."

Marty blinked at that. "Uh – I don't think I'm going to be interested in your mother, Emmett."

"_We_ know that. But Father's more the 'shoot first, ask questions later' type."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Be polite, of course," Emily said. "We'll let you know if you're straying into dangerous territory." She patted his shoulder. "Just follow our leads, and you should be fine."

Emmett nodded. "And if you get stuck, ask him about his work. There's _always_ something going on in his work." He sighed as they reached the mansion. "Home sweet home. Ready to see what it looks like on the inside, Marty?"

"You bet." Emmett smiled a little, led them up the path, and opened the door.

Marty's jaw dropped. The inside of the mansion was just as ritzy as the outside. The walls were done in dark wood paneling, the floor in rich red carpet. Fancy-looking lamps sat on similarly fancy tables for light. The furniture was finely crafted, and there was plenty of it. A piano was set up in the corner. The young minstrel whistled. "Wow. You've got it good."

"Emmett?" a female voice called. 'Is that you?"

"Yes, Mother," Emmett called back. "And I've brought a guest."

A 40-something woman, with long blond hair and bright blue eyes, appeared before them after a minute, wiping her hands on a rag. "I was just doing the dishes," she explained. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Sarah Von Braun. Who might you be?"

"Mr. Martin McFly – call me Marty," Marty said, holding out a hand. "You'll have to excuse my staring. I've never been in a place like this before."

"Marty's a traveling minstrel," Emily explained as Sarah shook Marty's hand. "He did Emmett a good turn, so we invited him over."

"How sweet," Sarah smiled. "It's nice to see you making some new friends, Emmett. How did you meet Marty?"

"I stopped at one of his shows, and we got to talking for a little while," Emmett said, adjusting his grip on his schoolbooks. "Then – well, I had another episode, and he ended up coming to see if I was all right."

Sarah's smile vanished. "Oh dear. Are you all right, Emmett?" she asked, going over and feeling his head.

"Yes, Mother, I'm fine now," Emmett assured her, ducking away from her probing hands. "It was only a brief episode."

"I'm glad to hear that. I hate it when you get one of those awful migraines." Her smile returned as she looked over at Marty again. "That was very nice of you to go and help him, Marty. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Your son's a very nice man. He gave me the best tip I've ever gotten." Marty looked around again, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry, but I have trouble believing anybody could be this rich. I've never even seen a house like this."

Sarah laughed. "We're not really _that_ rich. We don't have any servants, for one."

"Mother, you know full well that's only because Father doesn't trust servants," Emily chided. "We shouldn't put on an act for Marty's sake. It's better to be up front with him."

"Well, I didn't want to intimidate the boy too much. Really, though, we're not like some of the ruling Spark families. We don't have a castle or massive amounts of land. Just the house, really."

"The house is enough. I know I never had carpet or furniture like this. It's all really nice though, don't get me wrong. . . ."

Emmett patted Marty's shoulder. "Relax. It's just a house."

"A big, richly furnished house."

"Yes, but still just a house. It's not going to eat you." Emmett stopped and considered this. "Although. . . . Father isn't skulking around anywhere, is he Mother?"

"No, he's out helping Farmer Peabody with his cows. You're safe."

Emily put her arm around him. "Now this is the living room and music salon – both Emmett and I have had piano lessons. Through that door to the right is the kitchen and dining room. The door to the left leads to the main bath and the study. Then up the stairs are all our bedrooms with bath."

"Nice," Marty said, eyes wide.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking, come and sit down," Sarah said, seating herself on the couch.

"I'm – I'm kinda dirty–"

"We can have the upholstery cleaned, don't worry. Come, sit."

Marty hesitated a moment more, then sat down in one of the armchairs. Emily joined her mother on the couch, while Emmett sat in the other armchair, dumping his books on the table between them. "Do you have a lot of homework tonight?" Sarah asked him.

"No, not really. Most just reading. Professor Zemeckis is still ill, so I'm lacking about a quarter of my usual homework."

"I see. So where have you been?"

"Visiting with Holly, actually."

"That's nice. Holly's such a sweet girl."

"Very interesting too," Marty grinned.

"Oh, you noticed," Sarah grinned back. "Well, she does swear a bit much for my taste, and she has some rather – unusual ideas, but her personality is just so warm and fun-loving you can't help but like her."

"She doesn't swear often, Mother," Emily said. "Only if she's spilled something on herself."

"Even so, the language. . . ." Sarah shook her head. "Anyway, Marty, have you and your family just moved to Hill Valley?"

"Just me," Marty said, looking at his shoes again. "I'm an orphan. My parents were killed in a – riot."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. I lost my parents a long time ago." Sarah sighed and stared at nothing in particular. "Very dreadful experience."

"I know. But it's been a year, and I'm starting to feel better. And I kinda enjoy being on the road. I'm not starving, and I'm doing something I really love to do."

"That's good." Sarah looked at the worn-out knee in Marty's pants. "Don't you have any other clothes?" she asked, concerned.

"Not at the moment," Marty admitted, coloring a bit. "I used to have another pair of pants and a shirt, but they were stolen in the last town I visited. That's the problem with being a traveler – you 'lose' stuff frequently."

"I see," Sarah said with a frown. "Well then, if you want, I could patch that pair for you. Emily and I are pretty fair seamstresses."

Marty turned even pinker. "Oh, I couldn't let you do that, you've just met me-"

"I know, but I hate the thought of anyone going cold."

"Well, at least let me pay you for it," Marty said, reaching for his moneybag.

"Consider it a reward for being so compassionate toward Emmett," Emily smiled.

"You've fed me, entertained me, shown me around – if I don't pay for something, I'm going to feel like a mooch."

Before anyone could protest, the front door opened. "Oh, Sarah, what a day! That Peabody fellow gets crazier each time I work with him. He wants to try his hand at breeding pine trees now."

"Elias!" Sarah jumped up, obviously taken aback. "I didn't expect you home so soon!"

"Well, the cow simply had overgrown hooves, that was easy enough to fix," Elias said, coming into the room. "But that Peabody! I'm thinking of reporting him to the mayor, there's something undeniably _Sparky_ about–"

He paused as he finally noticed Marty. "Who's this now?"

Marty straightened up, intimidated. Elias was a stern-looking man, with a scowling mouth partially hidden behind a short brown beard and mustache. His brown eyes were cold and hard, nothing like the warm liquid chocolate eyes of his children. "My name's Martin McFly sir," Marty said quietly, making sure not to look at Sarah.

"Marty's a guest of Emmett's," Sarah said, smiling nervously. "Isn't that _nice_?"

Elias looked Marty over, sizing him up. "What do you do, Mr. McFly?"

"I'm a traveling minstrel. I put on shows."

"Oh. I thought you might be a mechanic," Elias said, casting a glare at Emmett.

"Father, you know they won't associate with me," Emmett said quietly, hands clenched in his lap. "They're terrified of you."

"As well they should be. Machines encourage Sparkiness. I don't trust any of those people. They should be made to get other jobs."

"Elias, be reasonable," Sarah gently reproved, putting her arm around him. "What would we do when our mechanical devices break then? Even we can't afford to constantly throw them out and get new ones."

"I'd like to throw them all out permanently," Elias grumbled. "Return to the old ways, before that bloody Industrial Revolution." His gaze snapped back to Marty. "What do you think about Sparks, boy?" he asked, voice dangerously low.

"I'll avoid them if I can," Marty said immediately, not eager to draw Elias's wrath.

"Smart boy. They're not to be trusted. To them, people are just experiment fodder." Elias cast another glare at Emmett, making the teen shrink into his seat. "I'm glad we overthrew _our_ Madboy back in 1864."

"Uh – not to be rude, but isn't this Wulfenbach territory?" Marty pointed out.

Elias snorted. "Wulfenbach. We haven't even seen his airship in our sky for years now. He knows what'll happen to him if he comes anywhere near us. We're truly independent."

Marty lifted an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Sarah patted Elias's back. "Let's not talk about these things. It only puts you in a tizzy."

"Sarah, I have a right to know who's staying in my house, however temporarily. I refuse to have the wrong sort hanging around here. Bad enough these two befriended those bloody Handlens."

"Father, we've told you, Holly's harmless," Emily said, not meeting her father's eyes.

"Like hell she is. She should be swinging from the town gallows for being a Spark."

"You mean a witch," Emily pointed out timidly.

"Same thing. Just goes to show what kind of government we have, letting a girl like that live."

"Holly's a wonderful person," Emmett snapped, straightening back up. "I'm tired of hearing you disparage her. You should at least try to give her a chance."

Elias sighed, as if much put upon. "Frankly, Emmett, anyone who likes you doesn't deserve to be given much of a chance."

Marty's mouth dropped open. _He did _not_ just say that to his son!_

"Elias!" Sarah gasped.

"Well, it's true Sarah! You know our boy's got something wrong with him. Why else would he be so interested in science and the Spark? It's unnatural!"

Just for a moment, Sarah had a strange look on her face – a mix of what looked to be regret and anger. Then it was gone, replaced with just anger. "Elias, how _dare_ you?" she almost snarled. "He's sitting _right there_! He's your _son_!"

"Sarah, I'm sure he's heard it all before," Elias said dismissively. "The point still holds true." He glowered at Marty. "Which is why I'm suspicious of anyone he brings over. No doubt this person has been tinkering around with slaver wasps or something."

Marty went stiff. "My parents were murdered after being infected by those things," he hissed, looking Elias straight in the eye. "I _hate_ stuff like slaver wasps."

There was a moment of silence. Then, to Marty's surprise, Elias broke out in a broad grin. "I don't believe it! Emmett's finally picked a winner!"

"Huh?" Marty and Emmett both said, baffled.

Elias put a surprisingly friendly arm around Marty. "You understand what we think here! That all these ruddy Sparks who constructed those machines deserve to die!"

Marty suddenly understood – when he had said he hated stuff like slaver wasps, Elias had thought he meant that he hated _anything_ built by a Spark. "Uh," he said, not sure if he should correct the man.

"Oh, it's okay, you can talk about this in front of him," Elias said, jerking his head at Emmett. "He's used to it. It's the price he pays for being crazy enough to _like_ that sort of thing. Us normal people know what threats Sparks _really_ are."

"Well – I've always thought the Other was the worst–" Mary hedged, looking apologetically at Emmett.

"Eh, I admit, the slaver wasps were terrible creations, but you can't fault his logic. Kill them all," Elias grinned, a mad light in his eyes.

_Christ, Holly wasn't kidding! This man _is_ crazy!_ Marty thought uneasily, trying to dredge up a smile. _I've never met anyone who really agreed with the _Other_! Asshole._

"Father, what a thing to say to him," Emily said, stunned. "He just told you his parents were effectively killed by slaver wasps."

"Oh, he knows what I meant, Emily. And I'm glad the Other's dead, of course. I'm just saying some non-Spark should have continued his mission."

"Heh," Marty said, feeling his hands clench up. _Gotta keep my temper under control. . .it would look bad if I slugged him, no matter how much I want to. . . ._

"Here, Marty. Let me show you something." Elias abruptly pulled Marty to his feet and out the front door. Emmett followed along for support, glaring daggers at his father's back. Elias led Marty down the hill and to the stable. Opening the back door, he pointed. "There. Isn't it beautiful?"

Marty looked. Elias was pointing at a pile of smashed-up clanks of all shapes and sizes. Gears and wires were hanging out, arms and legs were falling apart, and a few were dripping oil. "Nice," Marty said with fake cheer, nodding as Emmett joined them. "But what's it for?"

"It's a little custom we have around here. We go around finding all the old clanks we can – breaking them if they're still working, of course. Then on May 1st, we have a big bonfire and melt them all." Elias chuckled. "We have little contests to see how can destroy the most clanks. I always win."

Emmett knelt by the pile and picked up a small clank, smashed almost beyond recognition. "It's like a mass grave," he whispered, eyes sad.

"Don't get like that, boy," Elias snapped. "It's for the best. These clanks are a direct result of the evil that's ruling most of the world."

"I somehow doubt this little thing ever hurt anybody."

Elias sighed deeply. "Emmett, sometimes I wonder if you're even my son. Your sister may be friends with that bloody Handlen girl, but at least she's never expressed an interest in what she does."

Emmett didn't even react to this, which was worse than the statement itself. "It just seems like such a waste. We could _use_ these in something. Not necessarily another clank, but perhaps make them into wagon parts–?"

"That's just encouraging the Sparks," Elias snapped. "Our goal is to be rid of these things, not to recycle them." He smiled at Marty. "Well, hopefully your new friend here will be able to set you straight."

Marty just smiled and nodded. "Enough with the clanks; where are the horses?" he asked, needing to change the subject before he lost it. "I can hear them, but I can't see them."

"Oh, they're through here," Elias explained, opening another door. Through it, Marty could see the actual stables for the horses. "This is just the storage room." He led the way inside the main room. "There's Charger, Dreamer, Ginger Snap, and–" with another look at Emmett "– Archimedes."

"I see." Marty looked around, amazed at how roomy the place was. "This is really great. I person could almost live in here."

That seemed to give Elias an idea. "Where are you staying in town, Marty?"

"Any place dry and reasonably warm. I need my money for food, I can't afford hotels."

"Well then, why don't you stay here?"

Marty and Emmett looked at each other in surprise. "Really? Here in the stables?"

"You'd do that for him?" Emmett added.

"I'm not an ungenerous fellow." Emmett rolled his eyes, provoking another scowl from Elias. "Besides, maybe having someone else who thinks like I do around here might have an effect on you. One can only hope." He grinned at Marty. "How much do you think you can afford to pay?"

"Well – I'm almost positive I could manage ten zlotnies a day."

"Wonderful. You can sleep in here – I'll bring some blankets in tonight. And meals will be included, as Sarah would kill me if I didn't let her feed you. Just don't disturb the horses and don't get in my way. Feel free to get in Emmett's way, though." He turned to go. "I'll tell Sarah about your new situation. Go ahead and have a look around."

"Thank you sir." Marty and Emmett watched as Elias left. "Er – Emmett, not to be offensive, but – your father holds a candle to the devil."

"A candle? He holds a bleeding torch." Marty blinked and frowned at him. "You haven't heard Holly swear yet. 'Candle to the devil' is _polite_ for her."

Marty couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "I see. I just didn't think you'd know that – I didn't want you to know I was insulting your father, especially after he gave me a place to sleep."

"Oh, please, insult away. _I_ don't care, anyway." Emmett sat down heavily. "He hates me, and I can't say I'm too fond of him."

Marty shook his head slowly. "I can't _believe_ he said some of that stuff to you."

"_I_ can't believe you didn't deck him for that 'Other' comment."

Marty's hands balled into fists. "I was really too shocked to do anything, honestly. Plus, crazy people have this annoying tendency of being really strong."

"Yes, that's true," Emmett nodded. "At least he likes you. That's never happened before. Usually anyone I bring home either leaves shortly after meeting him, or ends up getting chased out." Emmett sighed deeply. "Not that I've brought that many people over anyway. I'm basically regarded as the town freak because of my love of science and the Spark. Most of the kids I know tease me, and I've beat up a number of times."

"Can't you talk to anyone?"

Emmett snorted. "Nobody would listen. Most people agree that Father is rather – extreme – in his viewpoint, but they agree with his basic philosophy. I've heard some very frightening tales about the older lynchings. Apparently they liked to torture Sparks before hanging them, ending with destroying their creations in front of them." Emmett lowered his head. "Almost makes me glad that none of my inventions work. At least then they were destroyed by my own hand."

Marty sat down next to him. "Fate really played a cruel trick on you by having you live here, didn't it?"

"You're not kidding. If I hadn't met Holly, I might have gone insane." Emmett looked at Marty and smiled slightly. "Thanks for – for being something like her. For understanding me instead of condemning me."

"My pleasure. Thank _you_ for sticking up for me with Madame Wells, and for making me feel so welcome here with you and your friends. Nobody's done that for me in a while."

"I was glad to help. I'm really happy I stopped to listen to your show today, Marty." Emmett stuck out a hand. "Friends?"

"Friends," Marty agreed, shaking it.


	3. A Very Bad Day

Chapter 3

Monday, February 16th, 1895

Hill Valley

6:58 A.M.

_The world was out there. He could feel it. It was a world of knowledge, of power. A world that hissed with steam, ticked with clockwork, reverberated with maniacal laughter. He wanted so much to be a part of that world. It was where he truly belonged, could truly be free. . . . But instead he was trapped here, in a bland, ordinary, colorless world. Trapped where he could not use his talents. Frustrated, he reached out, trying to touch the other world, trying to capture the knowledge, the power –_

BRIIIING!

Emmett jerked awake. His alarm clock continued to ring, reminding him that it was a school day and that he needed to get up. He sighed, threw off his covers, and shut it off. "Damn thing's too bloody loud," he muttered, stretching. "I was having such an interesting dream too."

He got up, made his bed, then cracked his window open slightly. A surprisingly warm breeze wafted through his room, stirring some papers sitting on his desk. Emmett quickly weighted them down. _Well, it looks to be a nice day at least,_ he thought, putting on his robe.

A soft ticking on his end table caught his attention. Smiling, Emmett picked up his beloved pocket watch and checked the time. "7:03," he murmured, slipping it into the pocket of his robe. He knew from experience that if his mother happened to catch him without it, she'd have a fit.

_But why though?_ he wondered, not for the first time, as he selected his clothes for the day. _Why _is_ she so terrified of me not wearing that watch? I mean, it's only been about a month since I convinced her to let me _sleep _without it. I think that, if she had her way, it would be grafted to my skin._ He sighed and shook his head. _Some days Mother's behavior can be more baffling than Father's. At least I like the watch._

After taking an ice-cold shower (he chuckled as he remembered Marty's shocked reaction to discovering their lack of hot water), Emmett changed into his clothes and headed downstairs to breakfast. The delicious smell of fresh pancakes reached him as he entered the dining room. "Mmm. Smells lovely, Mother," he said as Sarah set down the plates.

"Thank you, Emmett. I'll have the butter ready in just a moment." Sarah disappeared into the kitchen. Emmett happily sat himself down to wait.

Emily came in after about a minute, followed by Elias. "Good morning, Emmett," Emily said cheerfully, while Elias yawned and nodded. "It's a beautiful day out today. Almost spring weather."

"I'm glad of it. It's certainly been a long enough winter."

Sarah came out with a tray of drinks and the butter. "So, how is everyone this morning?" she asked as they all sat down.

"Tired," Elias admitted with another yawn. "Old Man Peabody had another emergency with his dratted cows last night. Also showed off some of the results of his pine tree breeding." His face darkened. "I think he might be Breaking Through. He was talking pretty crazy today. I don't trust that son of a–"

"Elias," Sarah said firmly.

Elias had the decency to look a bit embarrassed. "Yes, well, you all know what I mean."

"I'm all right," Emmett said, buttering his pancakes. "Though I had a bit of a strange dream before waking up."

"Strange dream?" Sarah asked, looking concerned.

"Yes. I don't recall the particulars, but I remember a sense of – of being trapped. Of not being able to do something I longed to do. It wasn't exactly a nightmare, but still–" Emmett frowned for a moment, then brightened. "It's nothing, Mother. Really."

Sarah ruffled his hair lovingly. "Well, as long as you slept well otherwise." She sat down with her own breakfast. "And as long as you don't start behaving irregularly," she murmured.

Emmett paused, his fork in his mouth. What was _that_ supposed to mean? "Mother?"

"It's nothing," Sarah said hurriedly, a nervous smile on her face. "Here, I'll wrap a few of these up for you to take down to Marty."

Emmett nodded slowly, eyeing his mother. Something was wrong here. For some reason, she seemed – jittery. _Did I say something to upset her? Or is it something else that's none of my business?_ For a moment, he considered pressing, but then dropped the idea. It probably wouldn't be the best idea to pry in front of Father. After classes, he could make a more thorough investigation.

The rest of the meal passed in idle chit-chit and more complaining from Elias about Peabody – enough so that the meal ended later than usual. Emily helped Sarah clear the dishes while Emmett took Marty's share of breakfast down to the stables. As usual, Marty was still asleep on his makeshift bed of hay. All that was visible of him under the large horse blanket was a bit of brown hair and the bottoms of his bare feet. Emmett set the cooling stack of pancakes on a nearby bushel of hay, then took a moment to visit with the horses before turning to the problem of waking up his friend. "Marty. Marty, it's morning."

"Mrrruff," was the only reply from the blanket. Emmett went over and pulled it down to reveal Marty's head in full. "Rise and shine," he said briskly.

"No," Marty mumbled sleepily, fumbling for the blanket.

"Come on, Marty, you have to get up sometime."

Marty simply turned over and attempted to bury his head in the hay bundle. Emmett frowned at him and put his hands on his hips. "Okay then, we'll do it the hard way."

He was about to simply whip the blankets off his sleeping friend when he noticed Marty's bare feet again. An almost wicked grin appeared on his face. As quietly as he could, he sat down by Marty's feet and gently lifted the blanket off them. Now totally exposed, they had no protection from him. Before Marty could do anything, Emmett proceeded to start tickling them.

Marty bit his lip at first and tried to kick Emmett's hands away. Emmett simply grabbed Marty's feet and tickled them all the more. Marty finally gave in to the laughter and tried to squirm away. "Stop it, stop it!"

Emmett merely redoubled his efforts with malicious glee. Marty laughed all the harder, finally freeing himself by rolling off the hay bundles and onto the floor. Emmett surveyed his work proudly. "Time to get up."

Marty looked at him with a mock-wounded expression. "You can't leave me in peace for one day," he complained, disentangling himself from the blanket.

"Because you never get up on time," Emmett said, giving him a hand up. "Were you like this at home?"

"Yes, actually. Mom and Dad also often resorted to extreme measures to get me up. Never nearly tickled me to death, though." Marty noticed the plate. "Oh, hey, pancakes." He promptly sat down and started eating.

Emmett sat down across from him. "So, how are you liking it here so far?"

"It's great, Emmett. I've got a warm place to sleep, good food, some new clothes, the works. My neighbors do smell a little, but other than that. . . ."

Emmett chuckled. "I'm glad. Father hasn't been harassing you too much, has he?"

"No, thank God. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep from punching him. Especially when he gets to talking about the Other." Marty chewed a bite of pancake thoughtfully. "Emmett, no offense, but – are you sure he's right in the head?"

"Really? I'm not sure. I've suspected that he might not be. Makes me rather nervous, frankly. What if it runs in the family?"

Marty patted Emmett's shoulder reassuringly. "Well, I think you're safe. You and Emily definitely take after your mom more."

Emmett smiled. "Thanks." They sat in silence for a while as Marty finished his breakfast. "So, where will you be performing today?" Emmett finally asked.

"Probably near the Clock Tower again," Marty said, using his final bite of pancake to wipe up all the melted butter on his plate. "It's a good location – busy, open, plenty of people going through – I've done well whenever I've played there."

"Ahhh, good. You'll be meeting me after class, right?"

"Yeah – and I'll try to be on time this time."

Emmett chuckled. "It's fine, Marty. Just so long as you show up eventually."

There was a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" Emily called.

"Yeah, we're both decent," Marty called back.

Emily entered, tying her hair up in a ribbon. "How was breakfast, Marty?"

"Delicious. Give my compliments to the chef." Marty set the plate aside. "Got any special plans for the day, Emily?"

"Not really, no. I'll probably be helping Holly with her garden. She wants to start testing her growth formula."

"Great," Emmett beamed. "I look forward to seeing the results. Tell her I wish her the best of luck."

"I will. Anyway, Emmett, I wanted to tell you that you should probably set off for class soon. It's getting late."

"You're right, I should," Emmett nodded. "Marty, would you like a ride over to the Clock Tower?"

"Sure, thanks. Let me just get my stuff." Marty finished dressing and grabbed his guitar. "Blue with red?" Emily teased, looking at Marty's outfit. "Rather clashes, doesn't it?"

Marty looked down at the bright red vest underneath his old blue coat. "Hey, this looked all right on your brother, didn't it?" he shot back.

"You don't know that."

"Hey!"

"I'm just joking, Emmett. Both you and Marty look good in that vest."

"Thanks. And thanks for donating some of your old clothes, Emmett. It feels good to be wearing stuff that actually keeps out the weather."

"I was glad to help," Emmett smiled. "Come on, I want some time for a quick ride before school." Emmett took Archimedes out of his stall and saddled him up. After giving the horse a bit of hay, he and Marty hopped onto the gelding. "We'll see you this afternoon, Emily. Tell Holly hello from us!"

"Of course! Goodbye boys!" Emily waved at them as they rode out of the stables and down the street.

After about seven minutes at a steady canter, they reached the town square. Emmett brought Archimedes right up to the courthouse and rewarded him with a sugar lump while Marty got off and set up by the stairs. "What are you planning to sing today?"

"More of the usual. People really seem to like 'Race for the West Pole,' so I'll probably do a couple renditions of that. I've also got songs written for 'The Trap of the Fog Clanks' and 'The Challenge of the Electric Dinosaur.'"

Emmett chuckled. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it. Good luck, and I'll see you this afternoon."

"Right. Have a good day at the university."

"You too." Emmett lingered for a few minutes to listen to the beginning of Marty's first song, then trotted off as a crowd began to form.

Instead of heading straight for the university, Emmett took a side street nearby, intending to enjoy a leisurely ride. Archimedes had had some recent trips to both the blacksmith and the farrier, and Emmett figured the horse could use the fresh air. Not to mention he wasn't looking forward to going to class today – he'd managed to insult both Needles _and_ Tannen before the weekend, and he was sure they had come up with _some_ plot, no matter how simplistic, to get back at him. _Probably in Basic Mechanics,_ he thought, depressed. _It would be so easy for them to sabotage me in that class. Damn, I'm going to have to be on my guard all day. . . ._

He trotted Archimedes around the neighborhood for a while, trying to keep his mind off school. Eventually, though, he began getting a feeling of wrongness. His inner time sense was warning him that something was off. "Guess it's time to go," he said to himself, pulling out his watch and checking it. 7:03 A.M. Well, at least he still had –

Wait a minute. 7:03?

Emmett did a double take. His watch had stopped. But – he could still hear it ticking. Puzzled, he held it up to his ear. Yup – it was definitely ticking. So why weren't the hands moving? How could his watch be stopped if it was still running?

Well, one thing was for certain – he needed to get the correct time. He dismounted and approached a group of men standing by one of the houses, talking. "Excuse me, sirs," he said politely. "My watch has stopped. Might I trouble one of you for the time?"

One of the men obligingly pulled out his own pocket watch. "It's 8:25 A.M., Mr. Von Braun," he reported.

Emmett froze, eyes wide. "8:25?" he repeated slowly.

"That's right. Why, is anything the matter?"

Emmett stood frozen for a moment as his mind worked furiously, figuring out his morning schedule. Between Elias's long rant over Farmer Peabody and his pine trees, taking Marty to set up his show, and his little side trip, he had lost almost a full half-hour. And now – "BLOODY HELL, I'M LATE!"

He ran back to Archimedes and leapt on. "Come on, boy! We have to ride like the wind!" Archimedes whinnied as if in understanding, and at Emmett's direction, took off at a fast gallop. Emmett did his best to steer clear of any pedestrians, but otherwise barreled down the streets, weaving around the slower-moving carts and horses.

Ten minutes later, they finally reached the university. Emmett tied Archimedes up with the other horses, retrieved his books, and raced for the entrance.

Guard Strickland blocked his way. "Identification number?" he said, with almost sadistic delight.

"Mr. Strickland, you know who I am! Emmett Von Braun! Let me in!"

"I also know you've been keeping the company of slackers! I told you being around that McFly boy would lead to trouble!"

"Leave Marty out of this! This was my own stupid fault! Let me in!"

"Identification number?"

Emmett glowered at the guard. "85558515! Are you happy now?"

"Not particularly, but go on in." Strickland stepped aside. Emmett ran past him, making sure to elbow him as he did. He paused for a moment to ascertain the right building for his morning class, then dashed off to Abstract Mathematica. He arrived halfway through the lecture, to the shock of his teacher and the amusement of his classmates. "I'm so sorry," he said hurriedly, grabbing a seat. "My watch stopped and I lost track of the time."

"Well, as long as it doesn't become a habit, Mr. Von Braun. Pay attention, everyone, this is important." The teacher went back to his lecture while Emmett struggled to catch up.

After Abstract Mathematica was his Literature course. Emmett barely paid attention to the class, too busy wondering about the mystery of his watch. _I just don't understand how it could be stopped_ and_ running at the same time! Maybe I should take a look at it after classes? No, knowing my luck, I'd end up destroying it. I don't want anything like that happening to my watch. Perhaps I'll get Professor Sixton to look at it._

"Hey, dummy! Class is over! Get your head out of the clouds!"

Emmett blinked, then registered the comment and gathered up his stuff. "Today is just _not_ my day," he said, heading to the quad to have his lunch.

He ate, pondered both his watch and the homework he had received so far, then left early for Basic Mechanics, hoping to catch Professor Sixton before class. He didn't manage that, but he did manage to trip as he came in the door, books and papers flying. "Sorry," he apologized, red-faced, as he gathered his things. "I've just been a klutz all day."

Professor Sixton helped him up, frowning with concern. "Do you think you'll be all right for the lesson? It's rather hands-on–"

Emmett quickly nodded, taking his seat. "Of course! I'll be extra careful, I promise.'

Professor Sixton still looked uneasy, but nodded. "All right then. Everyone, settle down. Today, we'll be constructing a simple machine for washing clothes. If you follow the instructions exactly, your machines should be ready for a demonstration by the end of the class." A few students looked at each other apprehensively, obviously wondering if this particular lesson was really allowed. "Don't worry – I received permission from the dean to do this, and afterwards all the machines will be destroyed and carted off to the junkyard." Henry came in, pulling tables filled with parts and lists of instructions. "All right, everyone – take an instruction sheet, and we'll begin!"

Emmett felt suddenly hopeful. This was actually something he had some experience in. Back when he and Emily were both very young, the family had actually owned a washing machine. His father had naturally hated it, but Sarah regularly begged him to let them keep it – although he didn't remember why, exactly. Emmett remembered that he had spent a lot of time exploring the machine – and, very vaguely, that he had managed to fix it when it had broken down. Of course, Elias had found out and angrily donated the machine to the annual bonfire. Still, it was one of the happier memories Emmett had of his childhood. _One of the few mechanical things I've managed to work on without it backfiring,_ he thought with a small smile. _Perhaps this is a good omen. _He got up and collected his materials. _Please, please let this work. . . ._

The class set to work. Emmett's head began to throb as soon as he picked up his wrench, but he ignored it. Instead, he dove right in and started building. Twice the pain drove him to put his head on his desk and whimper for a while, but he waved Professor Sixton away every time he came to check on him. _I – I can d-do this! No im-proving, no imp-provising – just building. I s-should – be able t-to – just – build._

Finally, the ordeal was over. Emmett dropped his screwdriver and smiled at the completed machine. He had done it. He had beaten his headache. Even Professor Sixton looked impressed. _Maybe things are starting to turn around for me._

"All right, everyone, tools down," Professor Sixton announced, checking his watch. "We have time for three of you to demonstrate your machines. We can't actually wash any clothes, of course, but you can show off the basic mechanical operations. All right then – can I have Mr. Tannen, Mr. Needles, and – why not, Mr. Von Braun." There was ripple of whispers at this – neither Biff nor Needles was a good student – it was only through virtue of their fathers being friends with the dean that they were passing – and of course Emmett was well known as "Sir Explosion" in the class. Emmett took the whispers with a grin, though – they would soon see that he was more than just a good alternative to dynamite.

Biff Tannen stood up first. "Okay sir. Here we go, butt-heads." He took some coal from Henry and activated his machine. It shook rather dangerously and rattled, but it worked. Everyone broke out in applause as Biff smirked.

Professor Sixton marked down his evaluation. "An excellent effort, Mr. Tannen. Mr. Needles?"

Needles stood up, gave a theatrical bow, and demonstrated his machine. The machine gave a rattle, but refused to move. Needles tried smacking it a few times, with no effect. Professor Sixton frowned. "Hmmm, yes. . . . Did you follow all the instructions on the sheet, Mr. Needles? Well, some points for effort, at any rate. Mr. Von Braun?"

A few of the students moved back as Emmett stood up. He supposed he couldn't blame them, given his track record in the class. But it still hurt. He tried to reassure them all with a smile as he collected his coal and water and fired up the steam engine. "Here goes nothing."

For about a minute, Emmett was rewarded with a steady ticking as his machine revolved. Then, suddenly, there was a snap from somewhere inside. Emmett's face fell as the machine began to shake violently, the agitator going off-kilter. _No, please no, I worked so hard. . . ._

BANG! The machine exploded, sending parts flying. Most of the students had expected this and were already hiding under their desks. Emmett ended up splattered with soot and condensation. He bowed his head, blinking back tears. _I should have known. I should have known better than to think I could have done something right._

"Well – ah – it did work before it exploded, so partial credit," Professor Sixton said, looking a little stunned. "Okay, that's it, everyone. Class dismissed."

The students emerged to gather their things. Emmett sadly picked up his books. He'd been _so_ sure this time. . . .

Needles and Biff both body-checked him as they left. "Hey, don't be so glum," Needles said, grinning nastily. "You give us all such a laugh." He and Biff both sniggered before disappearing out the door. Emmett sighed and prepared to follow them when –

"Mr. Von Braun? Could I see you for a moment?"

Emmett paused in the doorway. What did Professor Sixton want to see him about? He turned slowly. "Yes, Professor?"

Professor Sixton sighed. "Mr. Von Braun, I–"

"Did the other professors tell you about my lateness?" Emmett cut in. "I'm really sorry about that, it was a one-time event, I know it's not like me, I made sure I came to yours on time–"

"Yes, they did, but it's not about that. I know lateness isn't like you at all. Unfortunately, Emmett, you did demonstrate a trait _very_ like you today. This is the fifth explosion you've caused in as many weeks."

"I know, sir, and I'm sorry," Emmett said, shifting his books. "I – I really thought I had it this time. But then I got a headache, and-"

"I know, Mr. Von Braun, I know. You've told me many times." Professor Sixton sighed again and took off his glasses. "Emmett, I won't deny that you're a brilliant student – when it comes to theory. But in practical application, you fall to pieces. You seem simply incapable of building anything truly functional. In short, Emmett, you're failing this class."

Emmett's heart sank. He had a nasty feeling about what was going to happen next. "I'll try harder, sir, I promise."

"I know you will, Emmett, but I really don't think it'll make a difference. Nothing we've done to stop the headaches has helped. And you're putting the other students at risk when you fail. I'm sorry, Emmett, but I have no choice but to drop you from this class."

Emmett's heart was somewhere around his ankles now. "But–" he protested weakly.

Sixton shook his head. "I'm sorry." He got up and put a hand on Emmett's shoulder. "Look, you're a great student. I'm sure you don't want this class affecting your grades. It's for the best."

Emmett nodded numbly. He could barely believe this was happening. _My favorite class. The main reason I attended college. And now it's gone. Great Scott, my father is going to have a field day with this. Damn it. I should have never even got out of bed this morning. _He muttered a goodbye to Sixton and quickly left the room, not wanting to spend any more time with the man who had shattered his dream.

His last class, Language Studies (Professor Zemeckis was finally back from his illness), passed by in a daze. Finally, the school day was over. Emmett slowly made his way past Strickland and out onto the street. As promised, Emily, Holly, and Marty were all waiting for him by Archimedes. "Hey, Emmett!" Marty called cheerfully. "You won't believe how much–"

He stopped as he saw the look on Emmet's face. "Emmett? What's up, bud?"

"What happened?" Emily added, frowning.

Emmett's eyes filled with tears again. "He – he kicked me out," he choked out, trying his best to keep from crying.

"Who kicked you out of what?" Holly asked.

"Professor Sixton. He expelled me from Basic Mechanics." Emmett wiped at his eyes. "He told me that I was failing, and that I was a danger to the other students."

"Oh, Emmett," Emily said, promptly wrapping him in a hug. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Jesus Christ, what an awful thing to say to you!" Marty snapped, turning red. "I'm gonna go find this guy and–"

"No, Marty - he's right!" Emmett interrupted, now crying in earnest. "Just today, one of my projects exploded. I could have seriously hurt someone. He's right. I don't belong in that class. I really am a failure."

"Oh, Emmett, no!" Holly said, pulling out her handkerchief and offering it to him. "You're not a failure. It's not your fault that you get those headaches. If we could cure those, you'd be a fabulous inventor. I just know it."

Emmett laughed mirthlessly. "Archimedes said that he could move the earth with a lever if he had a place to stand. That was a pretty safe statement. So is yours. If we could cure my headaches. _If_." He shook his head. "Holly, you know as well as I do that we've tried almost a hundred different treatments for my headaches. None of them have worked. Let's face facts – they're never going to go away. And I'm going to be a failure all my life."

Emily stroked his hair. "Emmett, you're only saying that because you're upset. Come on, let's go to the town square and I'll buy you some pasties."

"And you can help me design some new songs," Marty nodded, putting an arm around him. "I've got an idea for a new version of 'The Heterodyne Boys and the Socket Wench of Prague.'"

Emmett frowned at Marty. "I haven't heard of that one."

"Me either, and I know a pretty good number of the Heterodyne Boy stories," Holly agreed, puzzled.

Marty grinned mischievously. "Well, it's not really that well known. Trust me, though, it's a funny one. You'll like it."

"Well, I could use something funny to cheer me up," Emmett nodded, finally managing to stop the flow of tears.

"Great! Saddle up Archimedes and let's go!"

Emmett smiled a little as he fetched his horse. He was so lucky to have friends like Holly and Marty and a sister like Emily. He felt better about his situation already. Once Archimedes was ready, he and Marty both mounted while Holly joined Emily on Ginger Snap. A shake of the reins, and they were off, riding and talking together.

As they entered the square, the group noticed that a large crowd of people had gathered in front of the Courthouse. "Whoa, where did all these people come from?" Marty asked, puzzled. "And where were they when I was performing before?"

"The gallows are up!" Emily cried, pointing.

"What?" Holly gasped.

The gallows were indeed up – and two figures were hanging from them. The group quickly dismounted and pushed their way to the front of the crowd. "What's going on?" Emily demanded of a bystander. "Why are the gallows up?"

"Spark stuff, that's what's going on!" the man replied, grinning nastily. "We just rid ourselves of another madboy!"

"Who?"

"Old Man Peabody," Emmett answered her, stunned.

Indeed it was. The foursome stared at the limp figures of Farmer Otis Peabody and his son Sherman, dangling in front of the Clock Tower. Off to the side, Peabody's wife held her daughter Martha tightly and sobbed. "Oh my God," Emily whispered, hugging her arms around herself.

"But – but why – why is his son up there too?" Marty stammered.

"Well, we have to root it out of the family," a woman in a long red dress said, smiling brightly. "The boy was encouraging his father. The girl takes after her mother, though. Besides, girls rarely have the Spark."

Holly gulped at that. "Yeah, I know," she nodded, rubbing her neck.

"My father reported them, didn't he," Emmett stated flatly.

"Yup! A good man, that Elias," the woman nodded.

"A great man," the first man agreed. "Knows what to do with Sparks."

The crowd slowly began to disperse, the excitement factor having worn off. A few people took a moment to spit at or make rude gestures toward the corpses. Marty swallowed, looking a little green. "Aren't they going to cut them down?"

"It's tradition to leave them hanging for a day or two," Emmett said softly, averting his eyes. "As a warning to others. It makes me sick."

Holly looked around uneasily. "Can we go?" she asked, fidgeting. "I really ought to let my mother know we need to stay quiet for a little while."

"Of course, of course," Emily said, hurriedly backing up to Ginger Snap. "Boys, are you coming?"

"Let me just get my stuff." Marty shivered as he walked past the corpses to retrieve his coat and hat. "Oh man. . . ."

Emmett looked over at the remaining Peabodys. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly, slowly shaking his head.

"He was just doing something stupid with trees," Mrs. Peabody wept. "And Sherman – Sherman wouldn't hurt a fly. They weren't Madboys. Not at all. They didn't have to–" She took another look at the hanging corpses and began wailing, hugging Martha even tighter. "They weren't Madboys. . . ."

Holly gently tugged on Emmett's sleeve. "Let's leave her alone. I doubt she wants company from anyone named Von Braun at the moment."

Emmett slowly nodded and turned back to the horses. "It's not right," he whispered. "It's just not right."

Monday, February 16th

4:49 P.M.

Sarah was outside pulling weeds when they arrived home. "Hello dears," she greeted them. "Why the long faces?"

"We've had a lynching," Holly said quietly, dismounting.

Sarah jerked to a sitting position, a weed clutched in her fist. "What? Who?!"

"Farmer Peabody," Emily said with a shudder. "And his son. For those experiments with pine trees he was trying."

Sarah looked furious. "Elias!" she snapped, throwing the weed aside. "Out on a call my foot. He's probably out drinking with a few of his friends, celebrating his 'victory.' Oh, he makes me sick sometimes."

"He's not in?" Emmett asked, relieved.

"No. He left about a half-hour ago and told me not to expect him back until later tonight." Sarah glared at the flowerbed. "He'll probably come back drunk and bragging about being a murderer – oh, he's going to be absolutely _insufferable–_"

"He certainly will be when he hears my news," Emmett said sadly, letting Emily lead Archimedes and Ginger Snap inside the stables. "Professor Sixton expelled me from Basic Mechanics today. Another one of my projects exploded, and he decided I was too much of a danger to remain in the class."

Sarah stared. "Oh, Emmett. . . ." She got up and gave her son a hug. "I'm so sorry. I know how much that class meant to you."

Emmett hugged back, swallowing back any tears. "It's all right, Mother. It's probably for the best, anyway. I had no future as a scientist in this town."

Sarah reached up and stroked his hair. "Yes, but – it just seems so cruel to deprive you of what you love the most."

Emmett frowned at her. His mother had turned a strange shade of pink upon saying that. "Are you all right, Mother?" he asked, puzzled.

Sarah sighed and gave him a weak smile. "Just rather upset at the way this day turned out." She patted his shoulder lovingly. "I'll let you four get on with your business. And once I"m done here, I'll make everyone a nice cup of tea and some biscuits."

"Thanks, Mrs. Von Braun," Marty said. "I think we could all use some." Sarah smiled at him and went back to her gardening.

The foursome headed inside, Emmett taking out his watch again. "Still not working?" Emily asked.

"No," Emmett scowled, shaking it. "It still claims it's 7:03 – and it's _still ticking_!" He grabbed at his scalp. "I just don't understand how it could still be ticking!"

Marty took it from him and listened for a moment. "That is weird," he admitted. "Maybe – maybe something got loose inside, so the gears still work, but the hands don't?"

"If that was true, I'd probably hear some sort of grinding as well," Emmett pointed out, taking it back. "Perhaps I should open it up and look inside. I'm sure a few things could be tightened up, even repla–"

Emmett winced again, nearly dropping the watch. "Emmett!" Emily said, putting her arm around him.

"Another one?" Holly asked. "This is just not your day. You okay?"

Emmett jerked away from them, his face going dark with anger. "I can't even think about fixing my watch?!" he snapped at no one in particular. "I can't even think about the simplest mechanical repairs without getting a headache? What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton is wrong with me?!"

"Emmett, calm down," Emily said, looking a little frightened. "You're going to work yourself into a fit."

"I don't care!" Emmett yelled. "The rest of this town can think about this sort of thing and not bat an eye, but I, who is actually _interested_ in this sort of thing – I can't even consider fixing a watch?! Why can't I think about these things? I – I–" He stopped and sighed, trying to calm himself. "I can feel the information. It's out there. It's almost like – like I could reach out and touch it – but then I get shocked. And I don't understand why."

Holly hugged him tight. "I know, Emmett. It doesn't seem fair, does it? I really do wish I could help you somehow. . . ."

"Doesn't _seem_ fair, Holly? It just plain _isn't_ fair! There's no logical explanation for the headaches I get when I try to consider anything scientific in nature. I could understand if we knew that there was something physically wrong with me, perhaps an internal chemic–"

He stopped as another rush of pain hit him. Fury overtook all sense. "I HATE BEING THIS WAY!"

And with that, he threw his watch across the room. It hit the wood paneling with a loud THUNK, then broke apart, scattering pieces on the floor. Emmett immediately felt remorseful. "Great Scott, now I've destroyed that too. I really am pathetic."

"Emmett, don't be so hard on yourself," Emily said soothingly. "We can't blame you for being upset. I'm sure we can get it fixed."

"Yeah, I'd probably do the same thing in your position," Marty added, going to look at the remains. "Wow, I didn't realize that there were so many pieces that went into making a watch. Look at all these gears and stuff."

Holly looked and frowned. "I know. In fact – it looks a little _excessive_, doesn't it?" She went over and began to pick up a few of the pieces, Emily following her. "Yes, this doesn't look like it belongs at all. It almost looks like something _else_ was built into the watch."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked, baffled. "What sort of device could be built into a pocket watch?"

"I can't tell you – it was destroyed when it hit. But it looked to be pretty complicated, I can tell you that."

"Hey, Emmett, I bet this explains your ticking noise!" Marty said, turning to his friend. "I – Emmett?"

Emmett had backed away from the rest of the group, one hand to his head. "I – I feel dizzy," he admitted. "It's – it's like the world is both slowing down _and_ speeding up. I can't keep up."

"You don't look good all of a sudden," Emily noted in a motherly fashion. "You've gone awfully pale. Maybe you'd better sit down for a while. Or, better yet, lie down."

"Yes, that does seem like a good idea," Emmett said, rubbing his forehead. "It would be the perfect end to my day if I came down with something, wouldn't it?" He gave them all a weak smile. "I'll see you in a little bit." He turned to go.

Somehow, he never quite made the first step. With no warning at all, Emmett collapsed.


	4. You Knew This Was Coming

Chapter 4

Monday, February 16th, 1895

Hill Valley

4:58 P.M.

"EMMETT!"

Marty, Emily, and Holly rushed to their friend's side. Holly grabbed Emmett's wrist. "He's got a pulse," she reported. "It seems to be steady, too."

Marty rolled Emmett over. "Come on, Emmett, don't do this," he said, giving his friend a shake. "Wake up, please wake up. . . ."

Emmett remained determinedly unconscious. "Mother! Mother, come here, quickly!" Emily yelled, looking near tears.

Sarah appeared. "What is it, Emi – Emmett!" She dropped to her knees beside the others. "What happened?!"

"He said he was feeling dizzy all of a sudden," Emily explained, blinking rapidly. "I told him to go lie down, but before he could even take a single step, he fainted. It was all just so _sudden_. . . ."

Sarah shook Emmett. "Emmett? Emmett, honey, wake up!"

Emmett groaned softly, but otherwise didn't stir. Sarah began loosening his shirt. "I'll bring him upstairs, and then–"

She stopped as she noticed something missing from his outfit. "Where's his watch?"

Holly held out the pieces she had gathered up. "Emmett threw it against the wall," she explained.

Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "Oh no. . . . It's – it's completely destroyed?" she whispered, one hand gripping her blouse tightly.

"I'm afraid so." Holly looked at her oddly, noticing Sarah's look. "Why, was it a family heirloom of some sort?"

Sarah fidgeted. "You could say that," she said, casting a sideways glance at her son.

"Mother, we should summon the doctor," Emily said, getting up.

"No! No doctors!" Sarah yelled. Emily froze, startled by her mother's sudden vehemence. Sarah took a deep breath and collected herself. "We'll wait just a little while longer, to see if he wakes up on his own. If he's not up within the hour or so, then we can send for a doctor." She picked Emmett up – not an easy feat when the boy was about a foot taller than she was. "Holly, could you leave those pieces on the table over there for me? I'd like to see if any of it is salvageable." Holly nodded. "Thank you." She turned and walked the stairs, grunting a little from Emmett's weight.

The three of them watched her go, then looked at each other. "Something's not right here," Marty said, frowning.

"I know," Emily agreed. "I've never seen Mother act like that before. She seemed almost – afraid."

"Maybe she was upset that the watch got broken," Holly suggested, gently placing the remains in a pile on the end table. "It did seem to be rather important to her."

"Maybe. But why wouldn't she call the doctor for Emmett? Something must be seriously wrong with him to just faint like that."

Marty snapped his fingers. "Emily, how anti-Spark is the local doctor?"

"He's friends with Father, so – oooh," Emily said, realizing. "Yes, he probably _would_ be out drinking with Father today. Mother's right not to call him."

"Yeah," Holly nodded, grimacing. "That man can be a menace when he comes back from the pub. Remember when he thought Mr. Vondart's broken arm was a dislocated elbow? He was lucky to escape the treatment alive."

"I know." Emily sighed. "Of all the days for Emmett to get mysteriously ill. . . . I do hope he's all right."

Sarah came back down, twisting her hands together nervously. "Well, I undressed him and put him to bed. Hopefully he'll come to soon."

The three friends nodded. "Although, really, it might be better if he just slept through the rest of today," Holly admitted. "Especially with his father getting drunk after a lynching. His day's been terrible enough."

Sarah gave a weak chuckle. "Yes, perhaps it is for the best." Her eyes turned back toward the ceiling. _Compared to the alternative. . . . Oh, Emmett, I hate to even think this, but – please, _please_ be sick. . . ._

Monday, February 16th

5:52 P.M.

_He gazed around at his universe, smiling. For the first time in a long, long time, things made _sense_. _This_ was where he belonged – in a world of clockwork and steam, metal and chemicals, power and knowledge. A world where anything could happen._

_And yet, the world was incomplete. Ideas raced through his head at the speed of light – things to improve, things to build. He grinned manically. The world was ripe with possibility. . . ._

_He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Every second spent contemplating other projects was a second lost on his current one. He stretched out a hand to his assistant. "__**Give me a five-eighths lug wrench.**__"_

_His assistant handed him – a five-eighths occipital wrench. He sighed. Well, Marty was getting a little better. Back when they had first started this project, Marty had often just handed him the completely wrong tool altogether. At least now he was recognizing sizes._

_He handed the wrench back, rather annoyed. Marty was certainly a nice guy to have around, but he knew _nothing_ about tools. The problem was, he had no one else to ask for help –_

_His mind went into overdrive again as a thought occurred to him. What if he _built_ something that could find tools for him? Not a mechanical man – too much time and not enough materials, he thought ruefully – but he could probably manage something smaller, more loyal, more – _

– _like a pet._

_Yes, he had it now. Ignoring Marty's confused queries, he gathered up the necessary parts and tools. He couldn't waste time now answering silly questions. Marty would understand once the project was done. Armed with his supplies, he retired into the other room to work, away from the distraction his motorized carriage project would cause._

_The metal and gears quickly came to life, expertly shaped by his skillful hands. Improvements were incorporated as they came to him. A mad smile lit his face. This was what he had been _born_ to. He couldn't understand why it had taken him so long to figure it out. "__**Perfect,**__" he whispered as the clank took its final shape._

_Finally, it was done. He stretched as he admired his craftsmanship. This clank would know exactly what tools he wanted – no more mistakes between wrenches. And now Marty was free to simply entertain him. It was time to get back to work on the mechanical wagon – he already had some new ideas for it – _

_He yawned loudly. He hadn't realized how _tiring_ all of this really was! Although he ached to get back to work, he figured he ought to take at least a brief catnap. Give his mind a chance to rest for a moment. He smiled as he laid his head down. He couldn't wait to show off his new clank. Marty would be so impressed. . . . ._

"Hey, Emmett? Emmett!"

"Ah – whuh?"

"Emmett, wake up!"

Emmett fuzzily blinked open his eyes. Marty was standing over him, grinning rather nervously. "Hey, sleepyhead," he greeted him. "How are you doing?"

"All – all right," Emmett said, his mind still foggy. _What happened? The last thing I remember is passing out after throwing my watch against the wall. But this certainly doesn't look like the living room. . . ._

He sat up and looked around. He was in the storage room of the stables, sitting at one of the shelves used for holding feed. Only instead of supplies, he was surrounded by tools and destroyed clanks. "What the – What am I doing out here?" he asked Marty, baffled.

Marty frowned back. "You don't know?"

"Of course I don't know! I've been unconscious!" Emmett lifted a hand to his head. "Is this your and Holly's idea of a–"

He froze. His hand – no, his entire _arm_, up to his elbow – was covered in grease! The same was true of his other arm. Emmett looked down at himself. He had grease and oil splattered all _over_ him!

And he was dressed in nothing but his underwear. "Great SCOTT!" he gasped, trying to cover himself with his arms. "What the hell am I doing down here like _this_?! It's not decent!"

"You tell me!" Marty shot back. "You're the one who came down here dressed like that! I was pretty shocked too!"

"How could I come down here if I was _unconscious_?!"

Marty stared at him for a moment. Then an almost fearful expression appeared on his face. "You honestly don't remember what you were doing for the past hour?" Emmett shook his head, still trying to cover up. "But – but you couldn't have been sleepwalking, you were _talking_ to me. . . ."

"Marty, what's going on?" Emmett demanded, starting to get a little scared himself. "What have I been doing?"

Marty pointed through the doorway. "Take a look."

Completely baffled, Emmett got up and went to the door. His jaw dropped. Sitting in the main part of the stables was what appeared to be the framework of the largest, weirdest clank he'd ever seen. The frame seemed to be made up of a series of rectangles – a large, box-like one in the middle, and two flatter ones on each end – cobbled together from various bits of metal. A steam engine was mounted in the rear, with roughly-made feed lines leading to pistons and wheels set near each corner. One side appeared to have the beginnings of a door, but with the hinges at the top instead of at the side. His father's prized pile of clanks was spread out around the clank, most of them torn to pieces. "What is it?"

"You tell me," Marty said, standing beside him. "You were the one building it. I was too busy handing you the wrong tools. Eventually you got annoyed with me, went in there with a bunch of clanks, and built – this." He held out something that looked like a ball of gears. "I got tired of waiting for you after a while, went in there – and here we are."

Emmett shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, leaving four parallel black trails. "I – I couldn't have built that," he said. "Everything I build either falls apart or explodes. There's no way I could have even_ started_ building something like that without running into some sort of accident."

"I'm just telling you what I saw, Emmett." Marty rolled the ball of gears between his hands. "You looked like you knew exactly what you were doing – and were having a lot of fun doing it."

Emmett groaned, putting his hand on his forehead. "This is unbelievable! What am I going to say when my father–"

The main stable doors burst open. "– gets – home?"

Monday, February 16th

6:03 P.M.

"Ah, what a great day to be alive!"

Elias swaggered into the stables, a large drunken smile on his face. In his arms were the remains of yet more clanks that he had found. "One bloody Shpark hoisht by his own petard! More clanksh to be deshtroyed! Yesh, a great day to be–"

He stopped as he saw Emmett and Marty staring at him. Marty quickly shoved the ball of gears into his coat pocket. "What'sh going on now? What are you two–"

Emmett's appearance suddenly registered. Elias's red eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed angrily. "What the hell have you been doing and where the hell are your clothesh?!" he demanded, dropping his clanks.

"Uh – ah–" Emmett stammered. "Well – I – I thought I was unconscious, but – but apparently–"

"And what the hell is thish thing!" Elias roared, kicking the unfinished clank. "You were _building_ again, weren't you?! You were trying to blow up the stablesh with one of your crazy inventionsh! Thank God my good friend McFly here stopped you!" He kicked the frame again and shook his finger in Emmett's general direction. "When are you going to learn, you freak? When are you going to learn that _you can't build_?! You're a dishappointment, Emmett! You're uselessh!"

Emmett's fists clenched. After the day he had had, he was in no mood for his father's putdowns. "I _know_," he hissed. "You don't have to _pound _on it."

"Yeah, leave him alone!" Marty snapped, finally fed up with Elias's behavior. "He's a good, decent kid, and you can't give him the time of day!"

Elias stared at Marty, swaying slightly. "What are you going on about?" he asked, looking genuinely puzzled. "You hate Sparksh too. You told me so yourself."

"I hate the Other, not all Sparks! There's a difference between hate and a healthy respect, you lunatic! I wouldn't necessarily want to be noticed by certain Sparks, but I don't think they should all be killed either! Especially the way you killed Farmer Peabody!"

Elias went from red to purple. "You're a TRAITOR!" he yelled, spitting. "You're a traitor to all ush common people! You're just as crazy as the rest of them, you - you Shpark-Lover! I can't believe I let you stay here! Get out thish instant!"

"Only too glad to!" Marty yelled back, grabbing his guitar and moneybag. "Sorry, Emmett. I'll see you later."

"Oh no you don't! You're not allowed near my son ever again!" He turned on Emmett, who was looking at the clanks he had dropped. "Get away from those! Building crazy things while indecent isn't bad enough?"

"I just wanted to see what it was," Emmett replied coldly, fondling the machine.

"Damned if I know – some con-contra – thing for mixing drinksh, I think. Damned Sparks can't be content with regular ale, no, never mind that Hill Valley ale is the most best I've ever had. . . ."

Emmett studied it. It did appear to be a crude mixer of some sort – a pedal attached to a sort of platform inside a jar. The platform had a number of rough spoons mounted on it – when he pressed on the pedal, the spoons spun. But – something was wrong. "This – this is _amateur_ work."

Elias blinked, distracted from his ramblings on how good the local ale was. "What?"

"Amateur work! This must have been built by a weak Spark – or perhaps not even a Spark at all, just a frustrated inventor." Emmett could feel his mind kick-starting into overdrive. "Look at this! Driven by pedal power? You'd never get the speed to properly **mix anything! This thing needs a steam engine to work correctly! And spinning spoons?! Useless!**" Emmett ripped them off and tossed them aside. "**The curved surface isn't right at all! You need proper blades, moving at a rate of at least 6.8 revolutions per second to properly mix anything. And why stop with just the mixing? You could probably get this thing to pour the finished drink as well - or, better, yet, to make the drink entire. This entire device needs a serious redesign!**" His eyes lit up as the ideas hit him fast and furious. The thought that he himself didn't actually drink never crossed his mind. "**Yes, I know – perfect! Marty, give me that five-eighths occipital wrench and help me take this thing apart!**"

Marty didn't move. He stood gaping at his friend, eyes wide. "Emmett?" he asked softly.

Emmett waved his hand impatiently. "**Come on, Marty, I know you know what one is, you just handed me–**"

Emmett froze as it hit him. He'd been so consumed by his inventing thoughts that he hadn't even noticed he was concentrating – _without getting a headache._ And his voice – it sounded different, it sounded maniacal, it sounded –

_Sparky. . . ._

A wide smile appeared on Emmett's face. _Great Scott – I just Broke Through! I'm a Spark! I Broke Through!_

_In front of my father._

The joy abruptly drained from Emmett's body. Very slowly, he turned to face Marty and Elias. Marty was gawking at him, a look of pure astonishment on his face. Elias was staring too, but he was rapidly turning a rich shade of royal purple, the veins in his neck throbbing. Emmett backed up, suddenly feeling _very_ afraid. "Father, I–"

"You're a bloody Spark," Elias hissed, eyes glittering dangerously. "My son is a God damned Spark."

"I – I – I didn't know–" Emmett babbled, breathing hard.

"Of course you knew. Why else would you be so interested in science, huh?" Elias snarled, advancing on him. "Why else would you be so intent on trying to build things? I should have nipped this in the bud. Never let you near that ruddy college. Everyone else insists that it's safe now, that we've removed all the bad courses, but I know the truth. That place must be churning out Sparks! And now you – you – you!" He grabbed his gun from the wall next to the stalls and pointed it straight at Emmett's heart. "Well, no more! This ends tonight!"

Emmett was too frozen with terror to move. Luckily for him, Marty wasn't. Marty threw himself at Elias, knocking him off-balance and causing the shot to go wild. The horses screamed as the bullet hit the stable roof. "Emmett, run for it!" he yelled, wrestling with Elias for the gun.

Emmett managed to snap out of his terror-induced trance and ran for the door. Marty punched Elias as hard as he could in the gut, kicked the gun out of his reach, then followed. "Well, _that_ went well," Marty said as they raced up the street, wiping sweat off his face.

"Great Scott," Emmett gasped. "I never would have believed it. Me, a Spark. . . ." He began to hyperventilate.

"Emmet, calm down. You gotta save your breath."

"Calm down?! Marty, I just Broke Through in the stables of the most anti-Spark man in the _country_, and now I'm running for my life through a town _full_ of people who regularly lynch Sparks –

"AND I'M STILL IN MY BLEEDING UNDERWEAR!"

Emmett skidded to a stop, horrified. "I can't be out like this! It's not decent!"

Marty pulled off his coat and tossed it to him. "Well, I'm not going to be the one to go back and get your clothes! But yeah, you're right – this is bad." Looking around, he added, "Where the hell are we running to, anyway?"

It came to Emmett as he pulled on Marty's coat. "Holly's. She's sure to help us. Come on." The boys set out again, a little slower this time now that they knew where they were going.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Handlen's cottage. Hecate the cow, out for a late graze, mooed at them. "Hi Hecate," Marty said with a weak smile.

"Hecate, who are you mooing at?" Rose asked, opening the door. "Oh, hello, Marty, how good to see you. And you too, Em–"

She stopped and raised an eyebrow. "Emmett?"

Emmett self-consciously drew Marty's coat closer around him. _Damn, I wish this thing was longer._ "Hello, Mrs. Handlen."

"We need some help," Marty said, glancing around nervously. "Emmett's father just chased us out at gunpoint."

"Whatever for?"

"I Broke Through," Emmett said simply.

Rose stared at them for a moment. Then she ushered them inside, whispering, "_You_? _You_ Broke Through?"

"I know it seems impossible to believe, but I did not five minutes ago."

Holly looked up from her book. "Mother, who–"

She stopped as she saw her friend. She looked Emmett up and down with a smirk. "Why Emmett, I knew you were rather forward with your clothing choices. . . ."

Emmett went red. "I didn't mean to come out like this," he said softly. "Apparently I've taken up sleepwalking."

"Honestly, Emmett, I thought you were awake! You were talking and everything!"

"What? What's going on?"

"Emmett just Broke Through," Marty said. "He was inventing some sort of large clank in his father's stables, and I was helping him. Elias was going to kill Emmett when he found out, but I managed to disarm him, and we ran for it."

Holly's jaw dropped. "But – Emmett – your headaches–"

"Mysteriously disappeared," Emmett said. "It's true, Holly. Not only did I start work on a big clank, I also started redesigning one of the ones my father brought home. I _heard_ my voice change!"

Holly and Rose still looked a little skeptical. Sighing, Emmett opened the coat to show off his grease-covered underwear. "Emmett!" Rose cried, quickly averting her eyes.

Holly stared. "Okay, now I believe you. You were definitely working on _something_."

Emmett covered up again. "I can't blame you for not believing me. I can barely believe it myself." He shook his head. "How can I be a Spark and yet have shown no mechanical aptitude? It doesn't make sense!"

"Nobody knows who a Spark will be until they Break Through," Holly pointed out. "It's not impossible."

"It smells fishy to me, though," Marty said, frowning. "You'd think a Spark would be a genius."

"Emmett _is_ a genius," Holly said, glaring at him.

"No, I know what he meant," Emmett said. "A genius in mechanics, or biology, or chemistry, or whatever other sciences Sparks specialize in. Not someone who was capable of learning other languages quickly and writing passable poetry for his English class."

"Nothing says you can't be a Mad Linguist."

Marty lifted an eyebrow. "A Mad _Linguist_?"

"Why not? Why are there only ever hard-science Sparks? Why not a social sciences one for once?"

"Don't ask me – I'm on the 'lab assistant/guinea pig' side of this equation."

"No, I'm pretty sure that I'm a Mechanical Spark," Emmett admitted. "Why else would I be so focused on building a clank? But it still doesn't make sense." He sighed. "And of course I would pick the absolute _worst_ time to start experimenting. . . ."

"The Spark knows no hour," Holly said placatingly. "I was actually just taking a break from an experiment I'm working on now. I'm still trying to get that fertilizer smell out of my plant growth formula." She went back over to her chemistry set. "So far, nothing's working. . . ."

Emmett followed, eager for a distraction from his current situation. He glanced over Holly's notes as she examined her formulas, idly humming to himself – then blinked and looked again. "Well, here's part of your problem. You've got these two variables transposed."

"What?" Holly looked. "No I don't."

"Yes you do? Look, does this actually make sense here?"

"Yes it does. I know m**y own work,**" Holly snapped.

"It's w**rong,**" Emmett growled back. "**The atomic weights don't match up! Here, look! You'd be mixing two highly reactive substances together this way!**"

"**Maybe that was my aim! Look at the equations again – after combining them, I'd have something that didn't smell! The odor-causing chemicals would be completely neutralized!**"

"**So would the nutrient-bearing chemicals! You're going about this all wrong!**" Emmett snatched up a pencil and began to write at a breakneck pace. "**Try **_**these**_** chemicals. They should allow you to get rid of your smell safely.**"

Holly read over the new ingredients and shook her head. "**No, no, these won't do at all. I'm using the disylium oxide because it ends up strengthening the original brew. I can't give that up!**"

"**But mixing it with hydrogen carbonate would likely cause a massive explosion! And don't tell me how good your shielding magic is – I know it's good, but I doubt even it would stand up to an explosion of this size. Try the ferrum disulfate at least, that's known for odor neutralization. You told me so yourself.**"

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. Then Holly abruptly grinned and threw her arms around Emmett. "You really are a Spark!"

Emmett blinked a few times, coming back to himself. It was weird how the rest of the outside world faded away when you Sparked. "What?" he asked dumbly, trying to catch up with Holly.

"You're a Spark! A real Spark! I've never had anyone I could talk to like this before!"

"I – I was under the impression that we were fighting. . . ."

"That's not fighting," Holly said dismissively. "From what I've heard, real fighting between Sparks usually involves leveling nearby countryside. What that was was collaboration. I think you've got a bit of chemistry Spark in you."

Emmett looked back at the chemistry set. He _had_ enjoyed redesigning Holly's formula. But something had been missing. Something that he vaguely remembered feeling while he sleep-built that large clank. . . .

For the first time, he truly became aware of the lump in Marty's jacket pocket. Puzzled, he reached in and pulled out the ball of gears Marty had shown him before. "I didn't want your Dad to see it," Marty said with a shrug.

Rose cocked her head as she looked at it. "What is it?"

"Let's find out," Emmett said, finding the key. "Everyone stand back." His friends moved away as he carefully set the ball down on the table, found the keyhole, and wound it up.

For a moment, the ball remained still. Then it suddenly jumped about a foot in the air and unfolded into what looked like a small mechanical dog. The dog barked twice – a distinctly metallic sound – and looked at Emmett, tail wagging.

Emmett stared. _I – I built that? It seems strangely advanced – and yet crude. I could definitely improve upon a few things – that spring tail for one, how useless. . . . But – I built that. I created that. And it works. IT WORKS. _"It works!" he cried, spinning to face his friends. "I finally invented something that works!"

Holly and Rose both applauded, beaming. "That's great, Emmett!" Marty said enthusiastically. "Congratulations!" He looked at the little clank puppy, who was now "sniffing" the table. "But what exactly does he do?"

Emmett looked back at the dog. Something stirred in his memory. "Fetch me a .42 liter test tube," he commanded.

The dog barked again and ran across the table. It returned carrying the requested item and gently set it in front of Emmett. Emmett patted the dog's head. "Good boy!"

Marty snickered. "I _knew_ you were getting frustrated with me."

"No offense, Marty," Emmett said with a slight blush. "Thanks for inspiring me. You have plenty of other uses in the lab anyway. Help me keep the place organized, hand me some of the larger tools this clank can't lift. . . ." _Perhaps I could even experiment on– _

Emmett mentally recoiled in horror at the thought. How could he even _think_ of experimenting on his friends?! Suddenly unable to meet Marty's eyes, he looked back at his little puppy clank. _I'm _never_ going to experiment on people. I might ask them to help me test an invention, but I'm never going to directly experiment on them. I'm not going to be one of the bad guys._

Marty frowned. "Something wrong?"

"Just wondering if I'm really cut out to be a Mad Scientist," Emmett admitted softly.

"Judging from that clank there, I'd say you are," Rose said. "I've never seen anything like it in the clanks the others have brought back from the countryside raids."

"I'm surprised he built something so non-violent," Holly confessed. "Remember my Breakthrough? I nearly blew our house up. I thought all Sparks got a little violent during their first Breakthrough."

"Maybe I'm a rare exception," Emmett shrugged. "Or maybe not even that. Fa – _Elias_ didn't have any really dangerous clanks around. He was too afraid I'd get ideas. And we really don't know what I was building in the stables, other than it was supposed to be mobile." Emmett stroked his puppy clank with a finger. "I had to admit it, but he was probably right. I'd probably do a lot of damage if I was given access to weaponry." His face darkened. "Especially to him."

A thought suddenly struck Marty. "Emmett, what happens when Elias tells your mother and sister about you being a Spark?"

Emmett froze. It occurred to him that he didn't know. His mother and sister weren't open about disliking the Spark, but. . . . He knew Emily was actually rather afraid of it – she always got a little nervous when Holly began Sparking. Would him being her brother make any difference? And his mother – no matter her own opinions, the fact of the matter was that she had married Elias. Was he about to lose his entire family in one fell swoop?

As if reading his mind, Holly said, "It's all right, Emmett. You and Marty are welcome to stay here for as long as you like. Right, Mother?"

"Of course," Rose said, smiling reassuringly. "You'd be safe here, I promise. Mayor Wilson doesn't dare touch me after what I did for his daughter Goldie. And I know a couple of tricks that'll keep Elias away."

Emmett felt himself starting to tear up. It was nice to have friends you could trust so well. "Thank you."

There was a sudden knock at the door. Everyone looked at each other nervously. "Who's there?" Rose called, grabbing the heavy ladle to her cauldron.

"It's me, Sarah. Can I come in?"

There was a collective sigh of relief. Rose opened the door. "Yes, come right in."

Sarah and Emily stepped inside, both looking rather nervous. Sarah had a bundle of clothes tucked under her arm – apparently, Elias had told them what had happened. Emmett gave them a shaky smile. "Hello Mother. Hello Emily."

"Is it true what Father said?" Emily said, eyes wide. "Are – are you really a Spark?"

Emmett nodded slowly, showing her his mechanical dog. Emily squeaked. "Oh my – I – I never–"

"Me either," Emmett replied, sighing.

Sarah gave Emmett the bundle. "Here. I thought you might appreciate these."

"Thanks Mother," Emmett said gratefully. "I'll go get washed up and changed immediately."

"I'll get you some water," Rose nodded, heading outside to the well.

Emily shook her head. "My brother, a Spark. . . ."

"Emily, I'm still your brother," Emmett said, feeling uncomfortable. Although he had sort of expected it, it still hurt to see Emily afraid of him. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I promise."

"I know," Emily said, trying to smile. "It's just – I can't imagine you as a Spark."

"Wait until you see him in action," Holly smirked.

Rose returned with the water and began to heat it up. Emmett played with his little clank dog a bit more, making note of where he could make improvements later. "You need a name," he said finally.

"Who needs what now?" Marty asked.

"The dog. He needs a name." He stroked the dog's head. "What would be a good name for you?"

"Fetch?" Holly suggested. "That is what he does."

The clank dog barked and wagged its tail. Emmett smiled. "I'll take that as agreement. Fetch it is."

"There!" Rose took the bucket off the fire. "It should be just perfect now. Soap and a towel are in the bathroom. Holly made the soap herself."

"It won't take off a layer of my skin, will it?" Emmett asked jokingly.

"If you scrub hard enough," Holly grinned back. "Seriously, it's safe. I wouldn't invent something dangerous and then use it myself. Usually."

Emmett nodded, satisfied, and went to wash up. It felt good to get the grease off and change into some clean clothes. _If I ever do manage to get my own lab, a personal bathroom is going to be a must. And work clothes. Definitely work clothes._

He emerged from the other room to find Rose cooking up some dinner for everyone. Sarah was sitting at the chemistry table, fiddling with the remains of his pocket watch. Emmett felt a fresh stab of guilt. "I'm sorry for breaking that," he said quietly.

"I should have expected this," Sarah muttered, mostly to herself.

Emmett blinked. "Mother?"

"I should have known this day would come. I should have planned for it better. But I never thought–" She sighed and shook her head. "I thought it would be a lot longer. . . ."

"Mother, what are you talking about?" Emily demanded, absolutely baffled.

"This! Emmett Breaking Through! I knew someday, _something_ would happen to that watch! I just didn't expect it to be so soon!"

Everyone stared at her. "Sarah," Rose said slowly, "you make it sound like you _knew _Emmett was a Spark."

Sarah hung her head. "That's because I did."

Emmett frozen in shock. "Wh-what?" he spluttered, stunned. "How could you know?! No one yet has come up with a positive test for Spark potential! There's no way–"

"This isn't your first Breakthrough."

Holly raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "I think we would have noticed any previous ones, Mrs. Von Braun."

"You weren't around for the first one, Holly." Turning to Emily, she added, "And you were both children when it happened, so I was able to keep _you_ distracted while I fixed things."

"A child?! That can't be right, Sparks don't Break Through until the teen–"

Emmett stopped as the pieces fell into place. "The washing machine," he whispered, eyes intense. "The one I fixed when I was six – Can you believe I never realized until now that a _six-year-old_ shouldn't be able to do something like that? And it's the last mechanical thing I remember being able to work on without it exploding! Until Fetch just now."

"You Broke Through at _six_?" Marty whispered, awed. "Holy shit! That's – that's _Heterodyne Boy _Spark! My Dad told me that they Broke Through young too!"

"I heard that from Barry myself," Sarah nodded with a small smile. "I met them briefly when they stopped here, before Emmett was born." She looked back down at the watch. "I wonder if Klaus cribbed the design from him, he mentioned plans for something similar. . . ."

"What does this have to do with my watch?" Emmett asked, still confused.

"It's not just a watch, Emmett. It's also a Spark inhibitor. When you Broke Through the first time, I panicked and wrote to my brother for help. He sent me back the watch."

Emmett's mouth opened and closed like a stuck fish. "You – you _shut off_ part of my _brain_?" he finally said, face darkening. "You turned me into a fool! The town laughingstock! How could you let me live like that?!"

"Emmett, you don't understand! I had to decide if I wanted you unhappy – or if I wanted you _dead_!" Sarah cried, sniffling. "Do you really think Elias would have let you live this long if he had known you were a Spark?"

Emmett lowered his head. "No, I don't," he said softly. "I'm sorry, Mother. I've had a very stressful day."

"I know, dear, it's all right. And I did feel guilty about giving you that watch – especially after I learned it caused your migraines. I wish I could have written my brother again and gotten you some help, but Elias – well, I don't think I need to spell it out for you."

Emily looked desperately confused. "But – what – Brother? Mother, you always told us you were an orphan, with no family to speak of."

"I lied. I didn't want anyone to know my origins – especially around here." Sarah sighed deeply and looked at her hands. "My name isn't really Sarah Lathrop.

"It's Sarah Wulfenbach."


	5. Shocking Family Tree

Chapter 5

Monday, February 16th, 1895

Hill Valley

6:35 P.M.

Everyone's eyes nearly popped out of their heads. "Wulf – Wulfen–" Emmett stuttered.

"But that's impossible," Holly breathed. "The books all say that there were three Wulfenbach sons. They make no mention of a daughter."

"Check the footnotes," Sarah said with surprising bitterness. "I'm in there somewhere. Sarah Louise Wulfenbach, the non-Sparky half-sister of the famous Wulfenbach three. A. K. A. 'Sit down and look pretty, Sarah.'" She scowled at her hands. "I meant nothing to them – and not even because I was the result of an affair my father had with one of the kitchen staff. They could handle that. But because I was born without the Spark, I wasn't really considered part of the family." She sighed again. "The only one of my brothers that I felt close to was Klaus. I'm so glad he was the one who survived that accident in the laboratory. . . ."

"Back up a second," Marty said, holding up his hands. "You're related to Klaus Wulfenbach. _Baron_ Klaus Wulfenbach."

"He's really not that bad a person," Sarah said. "Yes, I know he can be rather demanding and ruthless, but it's not because he likes to be. He's quite the gentleman, really. He's the only one who ever paid me any mind – even invited me to help with his experiments." She winced at some memory. "Not that I ever took him up on it. He had a rather disgusting obsession with brains. . . . Still, he was the only one I missed when I finally left that place. The rest of that family can rot."

"So why did you come here?"

"I wanted to be as far away from Sparks as possible. Hill Valley seemed a natural choice – only one ruling Spark who didn't seem very interested in his subjects. And when I met Elias – well. . . ."

"You don't love him at all, do you?" Rose accused.

"That's not quite true. I love him for what he gave me – two beautiful, bright children," Sarah said, smiling at Emily and Emmett. "But yes, I admit that, had my family history been different, I probably wouldn't have gotten within ten feet of him."

"If you were trying to run away from Sparks, it doesn't seem to have helped," Emmett said, a bit more acidly than he'd intended.

To his surprise, Sarah laughed. "It hasn't, has it? It all went to hell before either of you were even born, you know. Klaus foolishly sent me a wedding present – he very washing machine you repaired, Emmett."

"And Mr. Von Braun allowed both it and you to stay?" Holly said, awed. "You must have had quite a hold on him."

"Some acting skills and a lot of luck helped," Sarah admitted. "I convinced him that I had no relationship with my family – which, granted, was mostly true – and that I hated Sparks as much as he did. I begged him to keep the washer just as a decoration, a last reminder of home. He wasn't quite as radical in those days, so he grudgingly agreed. Of course, I couldn't convince him to keep it forever – he junked it after Emmett's seventh birthday."

"I remember," Emmett nodded. "I was so upset that my hard work was going to waste." He sat down and looked at the watch in Sarah's hands. "Well, at least now I know what that W stands for."

Sarah shook her head. "I told him not to sign it. . . ." She handed the watch back to Emmett. "I was able to get all the parts reasonably together and back inside, but you'll have to fix it to make it work again."

"Thanks Mother. I'll attend to it later." Emmett put the watch back in his pocket. "I assume that I'm going to have to stay with the Handlens for a long while."

Sarah shook her head. "Emmett, you have to get out of Hill Valley _immediately_. Any minute now, Elias is going to come in here with the pitchfork-wielding mob. I invested too much time in saving you to see it all go to waste now." She suddenly pulled her son into a hug. "Oh, Emmett, I love you so much. . . ."

Emmett looked depressed. "I love you too, Mother. And I know I should leave – but – but I don't want to leave all of you behind."

"It's for the best. I don't want you getting hurt now that you've Broken Through." Sarah patted his back and released him. "The best place I can think of for you to go is Castle Wulfenbach."

"Castle Wulfenbach? But that could be anywhere!"

"I know, but it's the safest place for you. If Klaus has any affection left for me, he'll take you in. Klaus may be a stern man, but trust me, he's not an ogre. Show him the watch case and you should be fine." She frowned, looking past Emmett. "I just hope that he doesn't think I'm using him – I never even got a chance to thank him for the watch." She grabbed Emmett's hands. "When you find him, tell him I still care for him. Tell him he's always remained my favorite brother," she begged.

"I will, Mother. I promise."

Holly was confused again. "For a favorite brother, you're awfully concerned that he won't like you. What happened?"

Sarah looked embarrassed, drawing back from her son. "We had a falling out before Emmett was born," she admitted quietly. "And thanks to Elias, the only time I've spoken to him since then was to beg for the watch. I'm worried that he'll mistake my silence for hatred. He's never met Elias, you see – the last time I saw him in person, Elias was away looking at some lord's animals. And Klaus – I–"

"Sarah, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Rose said gently, abandoning her cooking to comfort her friend.

"No, it's all right," Sarah assured her, waving her away. "I've kept it bottled up for so long. . . . And besides, if Klaus thinks Emmett stole the watch, the story would help convince him. You see, I was caught in a rather – compromising situation with one of Klaus's best friends."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Compromising situation?"

Sarah blushed hard. "It was my fault – I pressured Barry into it, I didn't dream–"

"Wait – Barry?" Marty interrupted. "As in – as in _Barry Heterodyne_?"

Sarah nodded, looking at her feet. "You had an affair with Barry Heterodyne?" Emily repeated, awed.

"He was nice!" Sarah suddenly exploded. "He wasn't the like the other Sparks I had met! He was kind and courteous and intelligent – and I know _Bill_ was supposed to be the handsome one, but Barry. . . ." She trailed off. "Even now I miss him. Some days I wish I had run away with him – disappeared with him after that whole Other fiasco."

"But – if this was right before their attack on the Other – how did Klaus–?" Holly said, too stunned to continue.

"I don't know where he came from – his disappearance was as much a mystery to me as to anyone else. As well as where he went when he was done screaming at us." Sarah put her head in her hands. "I've always felt so guilty about that. Maybe if I hadn't talked Barry into – _it_, he might have gone with them. And then they could have stopped the Other without disappearing. And he and Lucrezia could have patched up their differences, and Lucrezia could have had her baby. . . ." She lifted her head again. "That's another reason I stayed with Elias. It felt like an appropriate punishment for all that."

"Sarah, you don't–"

Something suddenly clicked in Rose's mind. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Sarah, you had your affair with Barry right before they left, correct? In February?" Sarah nodded, frowning in puzzlement at her friend. "And Emmett was born in October, about – nine – months – later?"

There was a moment of dead silence.

"I'M A HETERODYNE-WULFENBACH?!"

Monday, February 16th

6:38 P.M.

Elias stumbled back into The Drunken Construct. His whole world had come crashing down around him. His son, a Spark. . . . He'd known the boy had an abnormal interest in science, but he'd never thought – Sarah had _promised_ him –

"Hey, Elias! Back to celebrate some more?" one of his buddies called from the bar.

Elias shook his head heavily. "There's nothing left to celebrate any more, Jim."

"What are you talking about? We just murdered a couple of bloody Sparks! That's cause for celebration anytime!" The rest of the bar cheered in agreement.

"Not when there's another Spark running loose."

"That's even better!" Jim exclaimed, eyes glinting dangerously. "Who is he, Elias? We'll catch him and drag him down to the Town Square, to swing with those blasted Peabodys! You can do the hanging yourself!"

"He's my son."

The bar went suddenly silent. All eyes turned to Elias. "Emmett?" Jim finally said, looking shocked. "Your Emmett's a Spark?"

Elias nodded, sitting down heavily at one of the tables. "My bastard son, who's so obsessed with science, is a Spark. He just Broke Through tonight. Right in front of me, no less. I would have killed him if my so-called friend McFly hadn't turned on me." He leaned heavily on the table and put his head in his hands. "My son, a Spark. . . ."

Jim got up and went over to Elias, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We don't blame you, Elias. We know you're not capable of creating such a horrible thing. It must have been your wife's fault – bad genes and all that." Some of the others nodded.

"I'll say it's her fault," Elias fumed. _That bitch tricked me."Never want to see a Spark again," my ass. She just wanted to used me as a breeding stud to get her Sparky son and retake the town. Emily might even be a Spark too. _His hands trembled with rage. _I have to kill them all. Stop the evil from spreading. Take over the Other's noble work. . . ._

"Excuse me," a deep voice said, interrupting Elias's thoughts. "Am I right in presuming you're having a bit of Spark trouble?"

"What's it to you?" Elias retorted, looking up. Standing in the doorway of the bar was a man who looked to be in his mid-30s. He had slicked-back white hair with a pointed beard and mustache, and twinkling blue eyes. He was leaning against the doorframe, looking very cocky. Elias frowned. The man seemed familiar somehow. . .like he'd heard a description of him somewhere. . . .

The man smirked at him. "It's everything to me, good sir. Allow me to introduce myself." He struck a theatrically heroic pose, beaming at the crowd. "I am OTHAR TRYGGVASSEN, _Gentleman Adventurer_!"

Something clicked in Elias's mind. "I've heard of you!" he said, getting up. "You're the man who goes around saving towns from dangerous Sparks!"

"That's me! I've heard the stories were getting around," Othar said smugly. "Now, what's the problem? Spark unleash a terrible monstrosity on you? A plague of evil radioactive bees, perhaps?"

"Luckily, no," Elias said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a smile. Othar had been his hero ever since he had first heard of the man. Now here was someone who knew how to deal with Sparks!

"Elias's poor excuse for a son just Broke Through," Jim explained to Othar. Scowling, he added, "I never liked that boy."

"Me either," "That kid was absolutely insane," "He deserved every one of those bloody migraines," "Should have been drowned in the river years ago," the other patrons agreed.

"Has he built something tremendously evil?" Othar asked, looking a little puzzled.

"Not yet – I was able to interrupt his first invention," Elias said. "But it's only a matter of time, isn't it?"

"I see! So it's a bit of preventive maintenance you want!" Othar pulled a complicated-looking blaster gun out of his waistband with a flourish. "I think I can handle that! Now where's our developing young fiend?"

"He'd run to the university, wouldn't he?" Jim said, looking at Elias. "Because of the Basic Mechanics program. We're going to have to get rid of _that_ course immediately. Teacher's probably a Spark too."

"What we _should_ do is burn the whole goddamned place down," Elias snarled. "And no, I don't think he's there. Not yet." His hands clenched into fists. "He's with that Handlen girl. She lives on our street – he'd go there first. I bet she was the one who helped corrupt him. I never trusted that bitch."

"Lead me to her!" Othar cried, waving his arms. "I'll smite her where she stands!"

A few patrons shared uneasy looks. "Uh, Elias," said one, shifting his weight on his bar stool, "the Handlens are in with the mayor. I don't think he'll appreciate us storming the place."

"The mayor is a lily-livered weakling who doesn't do enough to eradicate the Spark from this town," Elias said coldly. "If you lot won't come with me, I'll go myself. I'm murdering all of them and stopping this plague in its tracks!"

"Excellent, my good man!" Othar beamed. Elias couldn't help but wonder if the man had any volume level other than "booming bass." "I see we are of one mind concerning Sparks! How would you like to become my spunky sidekick? I'm fresh out at the moment."

There were a few mutters of "Elias? _Spunky_?" but Elias paid them no heed. "Are – are you serious?" he asked quietly, hardly daring to believe his ears. "You want me to work with you?"

"Sure! Together, we'd save the world from the awful tyranny of Madboys! Turn their own fiendish devices on them, then escape by the skin of our teeth to the cheers of the villagers! Then it's schnapps and cocoa all around!"

There was a moment of silence. Then Elias grinned maliciously. "Let me just get my gun."

A cheer went up from the rest of the bar. Othar smiled and threw a thick arm around Elias. "Wonderful! Madboys all over will tremble when they hear the names Othar Tryggvassen and – er–"

"Elias Von Braun," Elias supplied.

"Right! Elias Von Braun! Tryggvassen and Von Braun – has a nice ring to it. Now come on, let's get your gun and you can tell me all about your Spark problems."

"Glad to, Othar."

Monday, February 16th

6:40 P.M.

"Emmett! Emmett, calm down!" Sarah cried.

"Calm down?!" Emmett yelled, staring at his mother in shock. "_Calm down_?! You just told me I'm the nephew of _Baron Wulfenbach __**and**_ possibly the bastard son of _Barry Heterodyne_! And you expect me to _CALM DOWN_?!"

"I don't know if you're Barry's son or not! I didn't – well – there's still the chance that you're Elias's!" Sarah said, blushing furiously.

Marty was shaking his head slowly, white from shock. "Holy shit," he whispered. "All those times I talked about the Heterodyne Boys. . . ."

"If this gets out, Emmett will be dead before sundown," Rose said. "You're right, Sarah. We have to get him out of here immediately."

"I'm a Heterodyne-Wulfenbach. . .I'm a Heterodyne-Wulfenbach. . . ."

"We have to get _us_ out of here," Holly corrected. "Emily and Mrs. Von Braun are in danger because they're Emmett's family, and everyone knows we're friends with him. I know Elias will say 'forget the mayor,' and I'm sure a lot of people will agree with him. The only one here who's safe at all is Marty."

"I'm not staying here either," Marty said fiercely. "Emmett's my friend too. And besides, I practically attacked Elias when he was going to shoot Emmett. I'm on the hit list as well."

"I'm a Heterodyne-Wulfenbach. . . ."

"Emmett, for the love of God, please take yourself off repeat mode!" Holly said impatiently. "We have to start gathering supplies!"

"I've got my moneybag on me, so don't worry about cash," Marty assured everyone.

"And we've got plenty of food stored from the garden," Rose nodded. "There should be enough for all of us. I'll pack up some canning and–"

"Halt, evildoers! And prepare to face your doom!"

Everyone turned to stare at the door. Glaring at them from the doorway was a large, well-built man with white hair and blue eyes. One hand clutched a strange-looking gun. "Can we help you?" Holly asked uncertainly.

"You certainly can! I'm OTHAR TRYGGVASSEN, _Gentleman Adventurer_! And from what I've heard, we're having a bit of Spark trouble around here!"

"Oh, no, no!" Sarah said nervously, trying to smile. "Our ruling Spark was killed _years_ ago. We haven't had any trouble since then."

"Not according to my spunky sidekick! He says that a dangerous new Spark just Broke Through tonight! His son, no less!" Othar pointed the blaster gun between Emmett and Marty. "Now, which one of you is Emmett?"

Both boys stood stock still, frozen with fear. Sarah blinked a few times. "You've taken _Elias_ as your sidekick?" she blurted.

"Sure! He jumped at the chance to accompany me! Not that I'm surprised," Othar said, puffing up. "He'll be along shortly, he just needs to sort out his gun. Apparently it sustained some damage in a struggle. . . ."

Marty swallowed. "But – but you're one of the Good Guys," he said softly. "I mean, that's what I've always heard. You _help_ people. How could you team up with someone who's off his rocker?"

"Off his rocker to believe that Sparks are the cause of all the trouble in this world? Nay, say I! It is my solemn mission to destroy all Sparks and set things right! Elias understands this perfectly!"

"Emmett hasn't even done anything yet!" Sarah snapped.

"He will! Best to take him out now, before he goes completely mad with power!"

Holly scowled at him. "That gun of yours looks pretty damn advanced. Did you steal it from one of your victims? Or are you a Spark?"

Othar assumed a tragic expression. "Yes, I too am a Spark! It is an unholy curse upon me! The only way I can redeem myself is to kill all those like me, and then, in a final blaze of glory, kill myself! Oh, what a happy day that will be, when I can finally let go of this torturous existence and – hey, where are you going?!"

While Othar had babbled, the group of friends had slowly come together and tried to escape through the bedroom door. Holly rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."

Othar glared. "Now look here, I'm trying to _help_ you lot! That's what heroes do!"

"You're trying to _kill_ one of us," Marty pointed out.

"It's for his own good! You'll all thank me in the end! So stand aside so I can get a clear shot."

"NO!" Emily jumped in front of Emmett. "He may be a Spark, but he's still my brother! I won't let you hurt him!"

Rose stepped in front of both of them, hands held up in a conciliatory gesture. "Now, Mr. Tryggvassen, I know we're all a little on edge here. But Emmett just Broke Through. He hasn't harmed anyone. There's no need for this sort of thing."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, dear woman," Othar replied, now with a definite edge to his voice. "He _will_ hurt people in the future. Before I started this mission, my best friend was a Spark – and he ended up destroying Oslo with his sick experiments. Sparks are not to be trusted." He leveled his gun at her heart. "Now _get out of my way._"

"No," Rose growled.

"Then you leave me no choice." Before anyone could react, Othar fired. Rose, in the process of going for her pocket, gave a short scream before falling with a bloody hole through her chest.

"MOTHER!" Holly raced to her mother's side, tears streaming down her face. "You killed her!"

"An unfortunate casualty in the war for good," Othar said, back to his usual bombastic self. "Her death will–"

Holly's face went dark. "Unfortunate casualty? _Unfortunate casualty_?!" She scrambled back to her feet, reaching for her chemistry set. "_**YOU MONSTER!**_" she roared, grabbing the first flask she touched and throwing the contents into Othar's eyes.

Unfortunately for Othar, the contents turned out to be a weak acid. "ARRGGH!" he screamed, clawing at his eyes. "You bitch! I'll get you for this!"

"Anyone else think he sounds like a girl when he's hurt?" Marty whispered with a slight snicker.

Sarah grabbed the teenagers and herded them through the door while Othar stumbled about, searching for water. Once she was sure she had everyone, she slammed the door shut and blocked it with her body. "Elias will be here any second," she whispered, glancing around nervously. "You have to run. _Now_."

"But – but where will we go?" Emily asked, face white.

"Anywhere! Anywhere far away from here! And if you can, find Castle Wulfenbach! Klaus will definitely protect you from Othar."

Holly sniffed softly. "My mother. . . ."

Sarah hugged her. "I know, dear. I'm so sorry."

Emmett began to tear up. "Holly – I never meant for that–"

"That wasn't your fault," Sarah said severely, cutting him off. "You can't help being who you are." Turning Holly's face up, she added, "Rose died so you – all of you – could live. I know it hurts. But you have to run now."

"I know." Holly went to the bed and lifted the mattress. "I just want to take this." She pulled out a thin book with loose paper sticking out of the edges. "Mother's spell book and some of my more Sparky chemistry notes." She sniffed again. "Damn it, Mother, why didn't you use something from this instead of trying to be reasonable. . . ."

There was the sound of a door opening from the other room. "Sorry Othar, that little shit really – Othar! What happened?"

"GO!" Sarah yelled, slamming herself against the door.

The teenagers rushed for the window and started climbing out. Elias began banging on the door. "Sarah! Sarah, open this door this instant!"

"Never, Elias! I'm not letting you anywhere near my son!"

"You promised me, Sarah! You promised me he wouldn't turn out like the rest of your filthy family! If you care for me at all, you'll open this door!"

"Go to hell!" Sarah snarled. She noticed Emmett lingering by the window. "Emmett, please. . . ."

"I love you, Mother," Emmett said, climbing out. He was about to follow his friends when –

BLAM!

Emmett spun around – just in time to see his mother fall, a bullet wound in her gut. A moment later, the door opened, and a smirking Elias stepped through. "Bitch."

Emmet's mind locked up. _No – no, not Mother – he couldn't have actually killed her – he loved her – Mother – _

"Emmett! Come on!"

Emmett broke from his trance as Elias looked up and saw him. He managed to dodge the bullet Elias sent after him and scrambled after the girls, tears pouring from his eyes.

The foursome ran long and hard, switching directions a few times to confuse any pursuers. "At least we haven't seen anyone yet," Marty said as they entered Main Street. "They must all be concentrating on Holly's house."

"That won't last," Holly said, swallowing back any threatening tears. "We need to find some place to hide and come up with a definite plan. And I think I know just the place. Come on." She turned toward the outskirts of town.

The place turned out to the local junkyard. The teens ducked inside, breathing heavily. "Okay," Holly gasped, sitting down on a pile of junk. "I think we'll be safe here for now."

"Safe?!" Emily repeated, her voice rising hysterically. "We're hiding in a junkyard after being accused of being Sparks! This is the first place they'll look for us!"

"Emily, I said _for now_," Holly said soothingly. "This place is essentially abandoned. Nobody comes here unless they're buying a new carriage or want to get rid of the random clanks they find. And I think that the _first_ place they'll look for us is at the university. By the time they remember this place, we should be long gone." She wiped the sweat out of her eyes. "We need to make some plans. Marty, do you still have your moneybag?"

"Yup, right here," Marty said, patting an inner pocket on his coat. "Some gold and silver, and a cartful of zlotnies."

"Great! That'll definitely help. Probably best to buy our supplies in another town, though."

"If we can _get_ to another town," Emily pointed out ominously. "We're going to be traveling across the Wastelands. There's no guarantee we'll _live_ long enough to reach another town."

"I know some defensive and offensive spells," Holly admitted. "Nothing too advanced, but enough to get us by."

"I always tagged along with other traveling groups," Marty said. "I know about how to survive out there. If we stick together, we should be okay."

"Good," Holly said, paging through her spell book. "Emmett, do you have anything to add?"

There was no response. Holly looked up. "Emmett?"

Emmett was sitting on a box nearby, looking at his feet. "It's all my fault," he said quietly. "If I hadn't chosen to throw my watch against the wall. . . ." He sighed deeply and got up. "You three shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes. All anyone _really_ knows is that _I'm _a Spark. Holly, you should still have the protection of the mayor. Head back to town and go to him. Say I kidnapped you." He turned towards the woods. "I'll go on alone."

"Emmett, no!" Emily grabbed him and forced him to face her. "We're staying together!"

Emmett jerked away. "Emily, we just found out that I'm the nephew of Klaus Wulfenbach _and_ quite possibly the bastard son of Barry Heterodyne! Do you have any _idea_ how strong my Spark must be?! I might as well have a target painted on my back! I don't want anyone else getting hurt because of me!" He turned away, tears burning in his eyes. "Please, go back."

There was a moment of silence. Then Marty suddenly stepped forward, jaw set. "Emmett, don't you get it?" he demanded. "We _can't_ leave you behind. We're all we've got left." He reached out and spun Emmett back around. "I lost my first family. I don't want to lose my second."

"But – but it's my fault– "

Holly put a hand on his shoulder. "No, Emmett. The fault for our mothers' deaths lies squarely on the shoulders of Elias and that – that _creature_ Othar. How could you have known that would happen?"

Emmett looked at her. "Then – then you don't hate me?" he asked, a hopeful note in his voice.

"Of course not! How could I abandon a fellow Spark?" Holly wrapped her arms around him tightly. "We're in this together, Emmett."

"That's right. We're not about to give up on you," Emily nodded. "I'll admit that Sparks scare me some, but – you're my brother. And I love you."

"You're one of the best friends I've ever had, Emmett," Marty agreed. "Your obsession with science and the Spark – it actually reminded me of my dad. Of home." He and Emily joined in hugging Emmett. "I say we stick together too."

Emmett smiled and hugged back. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Marty grinned. "And here's something else to cheer you up." He reached into his pocket and extracted a familiar ball of gears.

"Fetch!" Emmett cried. The little clank dog unwound himself and barked at him. "Great Scott, I thought I'd lost you!"

"Hey, I wasn't about to leave him to your father's tender mercies." Marty patted the dog, who nuzzled his finger.

Emmett gently took the dog from Marty. "Thank you so much," he said, looking the clank over to make sure it was completely unharmed. "I would have hated to see all this work go to waste. He's such a useful – little – thing. . . ."

Emmett paused. Slowly, he looked around the junkyard. A familiar gleam came into his eyes. "Anyone up for a little tool-hunting?" he asked, grinning.

"Sounds good to me," Holly said eagerly. "I might get lucky and find some chemistry stuff."

"We'll leave you Sparks to it, then," Marty said. "Emily and I will make a list of supplies we need."

"Suit yourselves. We'll meet you back here later." Emmett, Holly, and Fetch disappeared into the wrecks. Marty looked at Emily. "Well, first on the list is a supply of fresh water," he shrugged, sitting on the ground.

"We have a lake nearby. . . ."

Monday, February 16th

7:32 P.M.

"Okay then, I think that just about covers it," Marty said, pleased. "At least, this is everything that the groups I tailed had."

"Good," Emily nodded. "I wish we could get more of it here, but – well, you know."

Marty looked apprehensively at the gates. "Where do you suppose everyone is now?"

"Probably still at the university," Emily shrugged. "The school's a pretty big place, and I'm sure Fa – Elias will have convinced them to burn it completely to the ground by now." She shivered. "I hope they haven't done anything to Mother or Mrs. Handlen's body. It's bad enough–" Her lower lip trembled, and she stopped.

"I know," Marty said quietly. "I'm really sorry for you both."

"Thank you."

A sudden buzzing noise caught their attention. "What the hell?" Marty mumbled, looking around. "Emmett? Holly? Is that you?"

Something small and spinning very fast flew over their heads, making a loud "EEEEE" noise. Emily ducked as it came around. "What is it?" she asked nervously. Marty shrugged, baffled.

"Hey! Get back here!" Emmett came racing after the object, looking annoyed. "You're not done yet!"

Marty hid a laugh. "Having a little trouble in the lab, eh 'Doc?'"

"Well, I didn't exactly intend for him to escape."

"But what is it?" Emily said, looking up at the circling object.

"It's a surveillance clank," Emmett explained, chasing it around the sitting pair. "It's supposed to fly ahead of us, then report back on what it has seen."

Marty whistled. "That's cool. It's amazing the sort of stuff you can invent from all this junk."

"Well, you just have to know how to put it together. It all came together in my head." Emmett looked thoughtful. "Though you have to wonder how the Sparky mind comes up with such designs. It surprises even me."

"Don't ask me – I'm confused enough."

Emmett chuckled, finally managing to grab ahold of his wayward clank. "Gotcha! Now, don't whine – you need landing apparatus, right?"

"How's Holly doing in there?" Emily asked, looking past him into the piles of junk. "Did she find any chemistry stuff that she could tinker with?"

"Not really. We did find some leftover fuel in one of the smashed clanks, though. That was quite useful for my other invention."

"Oh? Another clank?"

"Not really – it's a weapon. We _are_ crossing the Wastelands."

"Let's see," Marty said, interested. "I'll hold the Spinbot."

"Hmmm – Spinbot. I kind of like that." Emmett carefully handed over the clank. Spinbot struggled against Marty's grip, propellor spinning wildly.

"Feisty little guy, isn't he?" Marty commented, holding on tight.

"It was probably a mistake to wind him before completing him," Emmett admitted. "I was getting a little impatient. Anyway, my other invention." He went back into the junk pile and returned holding a an old fencing sword.

Emily frowned. "Emmett, do you know how to use that?"

"What's there to know?" Mary asked. "Pointy end go in other guy."

"That's the generally accepted use, yes," Emmett nodded. "I, however, have thought of something better. Behold!" He flicked a switch on the hilt. The blade of the sword suddenly glowed with heat – and a moment later, flame burst out the end.

Emily and Marty stared. Even Spinbot stopped struggling to look. "Yeah, I think that's gonna come in handy," Marty finally nodded, impressed.

"Isn't it great? I'm already thinking up more ideas for it," Emmett said, looking almost manic in his joy. "**Options for a regular gun, poison gas, laser-powered death ray–**"

"Easy there, Sparky," Marty said. "Let's stick with the flames for now. We're on a time limit here."

"**Bah,**" Emmett muttered. "**I could do so much more without this mob chasing us. I'd love just to show them all!**"

"I hate to say it, but I'd like to as well," Emily confessed. "Unfortunately, they have the advantage of numbers. Which means they're more likely to finish off our whole family."

"**Except for Elias. I'd love to have him as a test subject for this thing. . . .**"

"I am _not_ counting him as family!" Emily said firmly, beginning to tear up again. "Anyone who does the things he did is not family!"

Emmett nodded, the madness going out of his eyes. "Emily, I'm so sorry about Mother. I wish I could have helped her. And Mrs. Handlen too."

Emily got up and embraced him. "I know, Emmett. I wish things were different too." She squeezed tighter, starting to sniffle. "Just – just don't go anywhere, okay? That goes for all of you. Don't go _anywhere_. I want you all right by my side, where I know you're safe."

"Can do, Emily," Holly said, appearing with a few roughly-made canisters. "I've been harvesting the fuel we've found in the clanks. Surprising how much a few had left in them." She frowned. "In fact, it's pretty surprising that we have this many clanks in the junkyard. Perhaps there's more closet Sparks living here than I thought."

"You guys are also north of Beetleburg," Marty pointed out. "Granted, miles and miles north, but clanks can get around." Looking at Emmett, he added, "Bet all these clanks annoyed the hell out of your father."

"Well, he _did_ enjoy destroying them, so. . . ." Emmett shrugged. "How much fuel did you get, Holly?"

"Two canisters for your sword and any other fire-related issues, and a half-can for me to experiment on. We should be okay as long as you don't use the special features on your sword too often." She looked around. "I get the feeling we're starting to push our luck. That mob is sure to be here soon. We'd better get going."

"Just a moment. I need to put legs on Spinbot." Emmett took the little clank away from Marty. "Now stop fighting! This won't take two minutes. . . ."

"We're leaving _tonight_?" Emily asked, glancing outside the gates nervously. "We're going into the Wastelands in the _dark_?"

"I'll find some torches," Marty said, poking around the junk pile.

"No need." Holly held out her hand and whispered a few strange-sounding words. There was a faint whoosh, and what appeared to be a ball of light collected over her hand.

Marty's jaw dropped. "Holy shit! I – I seriously thought all that witchcraft stuff was–"

"Yeah, I figured you did. I don't show off all that much. My Spark's easier to handle."

"_There's_ something I never thought I'd hear anyone say. But you know, most Sparks would kill to be able to use witchcraft."

"I know, but it's extremely dangerous in the wrong hands," Holly said, "bouncing" her ball of light on her palm. "And it doesn't mix well with the Spark. I know that from experience. How do you think I nearly managed to blow up my house?"

"Oh. Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem."

"Yes. I'm just lucky that Mother–" Holly paused and swallowed. "– Mother was so patient with me."

"Oh, Holly." Emily went over and hugged her. "We all feel just awful about this."

"I know." Holly hugged back, careful not to let her light extinguish. "But we don't have time to bemoan our fates. We have to get out of here so their deaths weren't in vain."

"I still wish we could at least take the bodies with us," Emily confessed. "So we could give them a proper burial." A sudden, hopeful light appeared in her eyes. "Or – or reanimate them. . . ?"

"Even if we could get the bodies, neither Emmett nor I know how to do that," Holly pointed out. "And I doubt we're going to find an expert out in the Wastelands."

"Good point," Emily admitted with a sigh. "I suppose the best we can hope for is that they don't mangle the bodies too badly."

"Amen," Marty nodded, shuddering as he recalled his own parents' deaths.

Spinbot flew back onto the scene, this time with a pair of clawed feet dangling underneath him. Emmett followed, carrying Fetch. "Are we ready to go?" he asked.

"I guess we are," Holly said, picking up a can of gas. Marty and Emily grabbed the other two. "Everybody got everything?" There were nods all around. "Right. Let's get out of here." She and Spinbot led the way out of the junkyard and into the night.


	6. C14R4

Chapter 6

Thursday, March 12th, 1895

Wastelands

11:12 A.M.

"Whoa."

The four teenagers stared at the clank lying by the river. It was certainly an odd one - shaped like a gigantic spider, with eight long, thin legs that each ended in a sharp point. "Rather silly thing," Emily commented. "The legs are too big for the body. It couldn't move."

Holly pointed out some rusty wheels on the bottom of the body. "I don't think the legs were used for crawling. I think they were used for stabbing whatever got in the clank's way."

Marty gulped. "Makes you wonder what those 'eyes' were used for," he said, looking at the eight dark holes in the front.

"I'm more concerned about that water quality," Holly admitted. "We're running very low on fresh water."

Emmett idly looked into the stream. His eyes suddenly widened. "Well, it's healthy enough for fish!"

Attention immediately turned from the clank to the river. Sure enough, there were a number of small, silvery fish swimming with the current. "They look delicious," Marty said, drooling slightly.

"But are they _safe_?" Emily wondered. "They could be some sort of mutant fish. We don't know if whatever was powering that thing leaked into the water."

"Easy enough to test," Holly said, going over to their little cart and extracting her new travel chemistry set. She filled the spare flask with river water, then tipped a little of a yellowish compound into it. Everyone waited with bated breath as she swirled the compound into the water.

The water remained clear. Holly grinned broadly. "We're in luck! It's safe!"

"Yes!" Marty cried. "Come on, let's see if we can get our hands on some of these fish!" He knelt down and plunged his hands into the water, grabbing at the creatures.

"You're not going to have much luck doing it like that," Emmett commented, watching as the fish slipped through Marty's hands. "You need something sharp, like–"

Emmett paused. His eyes went to the clank, then back to the river. A sudden, maniacal smile appeared on his face. He turned and whistled loudly.

Fetch and Spinbot leaped out of the cart and came to his side. "**Go get me my tool kit,**" Emmett commanded. "**I've got an idea on how to repurpose this clank.**"

"Careful Emmett, we don't know for sure that it's turned off," Emily warned as the clanks sped back to the cart.

"**If it's not, then it will be soon.**" Emmett climbed up one of the legs and into the cockpit. Holly, Emily, and Marty quickly got out of the way of the "eyes." "**Hmmm, let's see. . .controls look rather rusty – probably been sitting here a long time. . .oooh, buttons! Do they work, though?**"

"I hope they don't," Emily whispered to Marty. "Remember what happened the last time he randomly started pushing buttons on a clank?"

Marty and Holly winced. "I suppose we should just be thankful that we were able to contain the fires," Marty said.

Suddenly, there was a low rumble from the clank. "Emmett, what did you do?" Holly called.

"**I found the main activation controls,**" Emmett called back. "**The engine sounds like it's struggling quite a bit, though. And most of the controls I've tried have remained inactive. Most likely, this has been in a state of rest here for an extended temporal period, letting vital parts fall to rust. I'm sure it's harmless.**"

"All the same, we'll be staying over here."

"**Suit yourselves.**" Emmett took his tool kit from Spinbot and Fetch. "**Now, let's see - I'll need the tips of at least three of the legs, whatever I can salvage from the main engine - Right! Let's get this control panel off. . . . Hey! Get back here! I'm not going to set anything on fire this time!**"

Thursday, March 12th

12:10 P.M.

Click-click-click-click-click-

SPLASH-THUNK!

Emmett grinned as the spikes on his newly-created machine emerged from the river, covered with still-wriggling fish. "Well, everyone, it appears that we shall be eating well tonight."

Marty yanked the fish off the spikes and dropped them into a bag Emily had hastily sewn. "I know. This is one hell of an invention, Emmett."

"Thanks," Emmett said, dodging the splash as the spikes dove into the river again. "And see, I didn't cause any fires."

"No, you just disintegrated something instead," Marty said deadpan, pointing at a nearby hole.

"It was just the _one_ tree. And I promptly disconnected those wires," Emmett argued. "I'd say I did pretty good."

"You certainly did do good with this thing," Marty grinned. "I was getting so sick of stale bread and beef jerky."

"Yes, but we need to make our money stretch as far as possible," Emily reminded him. The four of them were lounging by the river as Emmett's invention caught fish. "Once it's gone, it's gone."

"We can always make more. My singing always brought in enough to keep me from starving."

"Yes, but would it keep all _four_ of us from starving? And the rest of us don't have skills that are really suited to making money while traveling."

"I dunno – we did okay in Glasbrook and Simsville," Holly pointed out.

"That's because a few people thought Emmett was someone important."

Emmett shook his head. "I don't like fooling people like that. I can't look _that_ much like Gilgamesh Wulfenbach."

"You fooled people in both towns," Holly said.

"He _is_ our cousin," Emily nodded thoughtfully. "And you _do_ take after Mother. I'm sure there's some sort of resemblance."

"Still, it's not something I'd like to take advantage of. We'd get into serious trouble sooner or later."

"Considering we're searching for Castle Wulfenbach, wouldn't being caught by the Baron's guards be a step in the right direction?"

Emmett smirked. "I'd prefer to meet my uncle under more pleasant circumstances, thank you."

"What _is_ the next town we're going to?" Emily wondered.

"A place called Passholdt," Marty shrugged. "It's a nice, touristy town from what I've heard. I wouldn't be surprised if our spider clank came from there, though."

"Well, we should be safe – we'll only be stopping for a few days," Emmett said.

"I hope so." Marty checked the bag of fish after retrieving the last batch from the machine. "Almost full."

"Then I guess it's time to move on," Emmett said, getting up and stretching. He turned his machine off while the girls grabbed their cart of supplies. After drying off the spikes, Emmett added the fish-catcher to the pile of inventions. "We're going to need a bigger cart soon," he said, frowning at the stack.

"Either that, or you need to start making smaller inventions," Holly nodded. "We can take care of it in Passholdt." They started walking, talking about the various items they needed.

Thursday, March 12th

6:04 P.M.

BOING!

Marty watched as the frame for their tent snapped into place, the cloth sides unrolling themselves onto the stakes. He fastened the sides down and the back flaps together. "Home sweet home."

Holly sat nearby, watching the fish sizzle as they turned on mechanical spits in the solar oven she and Emmett had devised. She carefully sprinkled on a bit of salt they had picked up at their last stop. "Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes," she announced.

"Good, I'm hungry," Emily said, laying the leftover fish on a piece of cloth to salt and dry for later.

"Me too," Emmett added. He, Fetch, and Spinbot were with the fish-catching machine, oiling the gears and tightening links. "This is hard work."

"I can imagine," Emily said. "You're the type to think of five more improvements while you're making one."

"Make that _ten_ improvements." Emmett finished up his work. "Well, this will have to do. It moves faster now, and produces less friction. I'll start up on a splash guard after supper."

"Good idea." Marty looked curiously at his friend. "Hey, Emmett, you ever notice that you hum when you Spark?"

"I what?"

"You hum. Not all the time, but if you're thinking really hard on something, you'll start humming a tune. Why?"

"Oh, that." Emmet shrugged. "The music helps keep me focused. I never really thought about why. Is the tune anything you recognize?"

"Hell no. I can't make heads or tails of it. I can't even figure out how to write it down. It sounds – different. I mean, it's nice, but it's – different."

"Probably because a Spark's making it," Holly said, unconcerned. "I wouldn't worry about it, Marty. If it helps him concentrate, it helps him concentrate."

"Yeah, I know. I was just wondering why." Marty grabbed his guitar from the wagon. "Speaking of music, anybody want to hear a Heterodyne Boys song?"

"How about 'The Heterodyne Boys and the Eastern Master's Isle of Dragons?'" Holly suggested, checking the fish again.

"I can manage that." Marty began to play. "Now the Heterodyne Boys were out on the road, heading to China in a steam-powered commode. . . ."

The group listened and laughed as Marty sang about the Heterodynes using their new steam-powered traveling toilet to defeat the Eastern Master's genetically altered Dragon-Lizards, then had their supper. "Excellent fish, Holly," Emily said, happily swallowing a bite.

"Thanks. Wish I could have experimented with the taste more, though. There's only so much you can do with salt."

"Trust me, this is great," Marty assured her.

"I look forward to your further fish creations," Emmett nodded.

After supper, they all relaxed by the failing sunlight. Marty noticed that Emmett was engrossed in a book. "Don't tell me you're reading 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea_ again_."

"Not much else to read," Emmett said, not looking up. "Besides, you know how much I love Jules Verne and his ilk. You saw my personal 'library' back – home."

"Yeah, I did," Marty said, shifting nervously. Things always got a little awkward when the Von Braun Mansion and Hill Valley were mentioned. "Too bad you had to leave them all behind."

Emmett nodded, sighing. "I wish I could have taken a couple of my own with me. This second-hand one keeps threatening to fall apart. Then again, we really had no time to pack, did we?"

"No," Holly said, a wistful look on her face. "I wish I could have taken my old chemistry set. This new travel one just isn't the same."

"I wish I could have taken more of those clothes you gave me," Marty nodded. "They would have been great for out here."

"I wish we could have taken two extra people with us," Emily said quietly.

There was a moment of silence. Then Emmett closed his book and hugged it to his chest. "I miss them so much."

"They're in a better place now," Holly said, sitting down. "At least, that's what I keep telling myself."

"Hopefully they've met up with my parents then," Marty said with the faintest hint of a smile. "Which means that they're either watching over us, or sharing embarrassing stories about us as kids."

Everyone couldn't help but laugh. "I really do hope they're happy, wherever they are," Emily said, smiling.

Emmett looked up at the sky. "I love you, Mother," he said softly. "I'll try to make you proud."

Finally, as dusk fell, they lit their fire and drew lots for watches. "Why do I always get first watch?" Marty complained as the other three picked their straws.

"Because it's too hard to wake you for the others," Holly said.

"Hey, you're no Miss Sunshine when I wake you up either."

"Yes, but at least I always wake up. Half the time _you_ just fall right back asleep. It gets on people's nerves."

"Once I invent something that wakes you up consistently and reliably, you can have another watch," Emmett told Marty with a grin. "I've already got some ideas, and with the parts I got from that spider clank. . . ."

"I changed my mind. I like first watch. A lot."

"Chicken," Holly grinned.

"I'm not chicken! I'm just worried that his plan involves catapults or death rays."

"I wouldn't use death rays on you," Emmett frowned. "Catapults, on the other hand. . . . Well, as it is, I haven't yet completed anything like that. So I bid you good night."

"Good night," Marty said, rolling his eyes. "Bloody Sparks. . . . I'll see you at 11, Emily."

"I'll be here. Good night." She, Holly, and Emmett disappeared inside the tent. Marty chose a place by the fire, picked up his guitar, and began to sing softly to himself. "The Heterodyne Boys were out on the run. . . ."

Friday, March 13th, 1895

Wastelands

6:20 A.M.

"Great Scott!"

Holly opened her eyes as Emmett raced into the tent. "What is it?" she asked, groggily noticing her friend was rather wet.

"A rainstorm," Emmett explained, opening the tent flap a little to show her. "It just came on. One minute all was still, the next I was in danger of drowning while on land."

"Ugh. I hate having to travel in the rain."

"Me too, but we don't have much choice. Hopefully we'll reach Passholdt soon and find a place to dry out."

"I certainly hope so." She and Emmett woke the others. Marty looked out at the rain while Emily cut up some bread for breakfast. "Jesus! It's really coming down out there, isn't it?"

"Definitely a day to use our cloaks," Holly said, shivering.

Spinbot flew into the tent, shaking water off itself. "Ack! Spinbot, be careful!" Emmett cried, moving to shield his precious Jules Verne. "What's the report?"

Spinbot chirped and binged a few times. "Just rain out there? Good."

"I suppose the fish I was trying to dry are a lost cause," Emily admitted. Spinbot clicked sadly. "Darn it."

"They're still salvageable, I'm sure," Emmett assured her, taking his slice of bread. "If we can't dry them out again, we'll just eat them faster."

"Fine with me," Marty nodded, grabbing his own slice and taking a big bite. "I'd be more worried about your inventions rusting."

"Oh no, I threw a cover on the wagon _before_ I came in here. I'm not risking losing any of those."

They finished their breakfast and prepared to move out. The rain lightened a little as they packed, making their tasks slightly more bearable. "I wonder if your uncle ever worries about rain," Marty asked as he and Emmett folded the tent back up.

"Probably not," Emmett replied, putting the tent back inside the wagon. "He can just sail above it if he so chooses." He glared up at the sky. "Wish we could do the same. The mud is going to have a highly negative impact on our attempts to pull the wagon."

"Too bad we don't have enough money to buy a horse," Marty nodded.

Emmett's eyes lit up. "Yes – but perhaps we have enough money to buy the supplies to _build_ one. A regular horse gets tired and requires food and water. But a mechanical horse – **Great Scott, Marty, think of the possibilities! If only it wasn't raining so I could write all this down!**"

"Hopefully it'll let up soon," Marty said, resigning himself to being Emmett's sounding board until it did. He didn't really mind Emmett talking about his ideas to him – he just rarely understood what was coming out of his friend's mouth when he did. "Are we ready to go, girls?"

"Ready," Emily nodded.

"Same here," Holly said, grabbing the wagon handle. "And when we get to Passholdt, remind me to buy eggs. I found a rain-shielding spell in my spell book, but it needs an egg to work."

"Will do," Marty said, getting behind the wagon. "Hey, Emmett, push and Spark."

Emmett vaguely grabbed onto the wagon, still muttering about his designs. With a hard tug from Holly, a bark from Fetch, and a "eee" from Spinbot, they were off.

They walked for most of the day, stopping only once for lunch. Emmett found a sheltered place to write down his plans on the mechanical horse while the others ate. Emily frowned as she looked them over afterwards. "A mechanical horse – that – the back end – produces poison gas–"

Marty and Holly fell over laughing. "It's realistic!" Emmett protested. "Horses do emit gasses from that–"

"Emmett! I think those death-ray eyes you designed are enough in terms of weaponry."

Emmett sulked. "Fine, fine. . . ."

"The rest of the design looks great through," Marty said encouragingly. "Though I'm not sure how we get the internal engine to work."

"We feed it fuel and water like you would feed a regular horse hay," Emmett explained, showing Marty. "Then a panel on the side opens so we can light and stoke the fire."

"Couldn't you just put everything in through the side then?"

"Yes, but what fun is that? I want the horse to look and act like a _horse_. Plus it allows for easy addition of materials when the fire doesn't need to be maintained."

"Whatever you say. I don't care how it works, so long as it does."

"And it will," Emmett said firmly, putting his plans into a little folder he had created just for that purpose. "I just need the proper equipment. I hope Passholdt can provide the supplies – or is controlled by a reasonable Spark."

"That's a bit of an oxymoron, isn't it?" Holly grinned.

"Ha ha."

The rain finally stopped in the late afternoon, though the clouds still threatened stormy weather. Marty turned his head toward a faint roar of thunder. "Might want to hurry it up, guys. Looks like we're in for a storm."

"We're going as fast as we can," Holly said, grunting as she pulled the wagon. "This mud's terrible!"

Spinbot returned from another excursion forward, cheeping. Emmett frowned. "What's the report?" he asked, extending an arm for the little clank to land on.

Spinbot clicked and squeaked out his message. Emmett's frown deepened. "What did he say?" Emily asked, suddenly nervous.

"He says it's unusually quiet around here," Emmett said, looking around. "And he's right. Have we heard _any_ animals around here?"

"Well, it has been raining all day," Holly noted, looking up at the sky. "Probably all the animals have hidden from the rain."

"Maybe, but still – it shouldn't be this quiet. And he said that he didn't hear any people when he flew up to the wall surrounding Passholdt."

"They would be inside too," Holly said, raising her voice as the thunder boomed a little louder. "Like I wish we were."

"But surely they'd make noise!" Emmett turned back to his clank. "Did you see anything else strange?"

Spinbot clicked a few times. Emmett blinked. "_Screeklings_?"

"What the hell are screeklings?" Marty asked, baffled.

"Only one way to find out," Emmett said, letting Spinbot lift off. "Come on."

They almost ran up to the wall surrounding the town. Like Spinbot had reported, it was eerily quiet, except for the occasional "screek" behind the wall. Emily looked around nervously. "I don't like it here," she admitted softly. "Something's really wrong."

"I agree – I'm getting a very bad feeling about this place," Holly nodded, shivering. "I say we make quick tracks out of here."

"We can't just pass them by completely," Emmett argued. "What if someone in there needs our help?"

"We're not exactly the Heterodyne Boys, Emmett."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't help. What if some poor Spark has gotten himself into a situation like ours?"

No one had an answer to that. Emmett spotted a large tree growing by the wall and began to climb. "I'll take a peek from up here. If I don't see anything that I think needs our attention, we'll leave."

Marty followed him up. "Well, I'm not letting you go up there alone. Whatever freaked out Spinbot might be able to fly. And two pairs of eyes are better than one."

"True enough," Emmett agreed, settling himself on a branch. "All right, let's see–"

He froze. From his new vantage point, he could see that the town was nothing more than a ruin. Houses were falling apart, wagons were overturned in the streets – the place looked like a powerful storm had come through.

But what really caught his eye were the creatures infesting the ruins. They were about his size, skinny as rails with pale skin – and huge claws and teeth. They made loud screeking sounds as they moved, ripping into the ruins and attacking each other. "Great Scott," Emmett breathed, horrified.

"What _are_ those things?" Marty whispered, eyes wide.

"My guess are Spinbot's 'screeklings,'" Emmett whispered back. "Whatever they are, they appear to have finished off the townsfolk. We're certainly not equipped to deal with them. Let's get out of here." Marty nodded, and they began to quietly climb back down the tree.

Suddenly, a branch snapped off in Marty's hand. Marty wobbled dangerously, then fell onto the roots of the tree with a loud thud. "Marty! Are you okay?" Emmett asked, keeping his voice down.

"Fine," Marty said, getting up. "Let's get–"

He stopped, his eyes widening with horror. With a sick feeling, Emmett turned to look at the wall. A few of the screeklings were sitting on top of it, having heard the noise. And they looked very interested in their visitors.

Interested – and hungry. "Run for it!" Emmett yelled, dropping to the ground.

The girls immediately obeyed, racing away as best they could with the wagon. The screeklings surged over the walls after them, screeching with hunger. Emmett yanked his fire sword from his belt and toasted a few who came too near him and Marty, before running off with his friend.

They ran along to the pathway leading to the town's main gate. Once they were out of the mud, Emily and Marty took the lead with the wagon while Emmett and Holly held off the screeklings. "How long do you think we can outrun them?" Emily yelled.

"Not for long," Emmett admitted. "There's a LOT of these things. They must have been breeding."

"Whoa – we're in trouble, guys," Marty said suddenly, looking nervous. "We're coming up on a ravine."

"Good!" Holly said. "Then I can ward the–"

She stopped as they reached the end of the path. "– bridge?"

All that was left were a couple of posts sticking up from the ground on either side of the ravine. "Where the hell is the bridge?!" Marty demanded, looking wildly from left to right.

"Looks like someone was here before us – and decided they didn't want the screeklings on their side," Holly said miserably.

"So they left anyone on this side to die?! Perfect, just perfect!"

"Emmett, Holly, can't you do something?" Emily begged.

Holly yanked her chemistry set out of the wagon and began mixing. "A dash of sulpherous oxide – there!" She shook up the concoction and threw it into the rapidly approaching crowd of screeklings. It detonated with a bang, releasing a cloud of white gas. "Insta-Fog," Holly said proudly, as the cloud covered the screeklings. "That should distract them for a few minutes, at least. Maybe we can find a bridge further up this way–"

"We can't spare the time to go looking!" Emmett said. "I don't care how long your fog last, eventually a few will find their way out. We need to get over this ravine as soon as possible!"

"Well, you're the inventor! _You _find us a way!"

"I can't concentrate! It's too noisy!" Emmett snapped, holding his hands over his ears as the thunder roared again.

"Come on, Emmett! We know you can do it!" Marty cried, looking nervously at the fog.

"I – I–" Emmett closed his eyes and began to hum to himself. For a moment, then tune remained normal. Then it took on the ethereal tones the others recognized from his Sparking. He opened his eyes again and looked around. "**Must be something around here. . . .**"

He spotted something interesting lying near the edge of the ravine. Picking the items up, he realized they were the remains of a pair of hammers. The heads had been deformed and melted into something resembling hooks, however. Emmett's mind kicked into overdrive. He grabbed a piece of rope from the wagon, tied the "hooks" back to back, then scanned the other side of the ravine. "**Marty, dump the fish!**" he commanded, swinging his homemade grappling hook above his head. "**That'll buy us even more time – I doubt they care what they eat.**"

"Got it!" Marty grabbed the bag of fish and threw it into the fog. There were a few excited screams, then a lot of ripping and tearing. Marty shuddered. "Jesus. I hope whatever plan you've got works, Emmett."

"**It should, as it's exceedingly simple.**" Emmett threw the grappling hook at the remains of the bridge. The hook caught onto one of the posts and managed a single wrap-around before pulling tight. "**In fact, rather too simple for my tastes. I'd much prefer it if I had the time to rig up a nice pulley system–**"

"Emmet! Screeklings!" Emily cried.

"**Yes, yes. Well, any**way–" Emmett suddenly turned a bit pink. "We all have strong grips, right?"

Emily stared at him. "You don't seriously expect us to climb out over the ravine?!" she demanded, voice rising hysterically.

"Like I said, I don't have time for a pulley system!" Emmet shot back, securing the rope to the post on their side. "It's the best plan I've got, and that fog is starting to dissipate!"

"What about our supplies? We can't carry those over," Marty pointed out. "We're going to need the food, and I'm not abandoning my guitar!"

Emmett thought a moment, then whistled. Spinbot flew over, cheeping nervously. Emmett grabbed him and started winding. "Do you think you could transport some of our supplies over to the other side?" Spinbot clicked in the affirmative. "Good. Go to it, boy." Emmett released him. Spinbot promptly flew over to the wagon and started grabbing items, starting with Fetch.

Holly looked out across the ravine as Spinbot flew over. "Well, here goes nothing," she said, grabbing onto the rope.

"Holly!" Emily gasped. "You're not really–"

"Like Emmett said, it's our best plan." Holly swung herself over the rope and began crawling along as fast as she dared.

Emily looked from her to the fading fog, then toward her brother. "Please," Emmett whispered. "Trust me."

Emily looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded and took hold of the rope. "Just make sure to hang on tight," Holly told her as Emily swung herself around. "And don't look down!"

"I have no intention of looking down!" Squeezing her eyes shut, Emily began to inch along the rope.

Holly climbed onto the other side and called encouragement. "You're doing great, Emily! Just keep coming!"

As Emily reached the halfway point, Emmett turned to Marty. "You next. I'll use the fire sword on them, then follow."

"Whoa, wait a minute Emmett–"

"No! I know how to use this device the best, and I want to make sure the lot of you are safe. Go!"

Marty sighed and grabbed the rope. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I'll do my best." Emmett activated his fire sword and began creating a perimeter of flame around himself. The screeklings, by now mostly free of the fog, tried to rush him, but he was too quick. They screamed, furious at being denied their meal. "That's right. Just try to get me!" Emmett dared them, brandishing his sword wildly.

Emily finally reached the other side, hyperventilating. "Wow. That – that was–"

"Relax, Emily. You did fine," Holly said, helping her up. "Come on, Emmett! Hurry up!"

"Just a moment! I need to finish–"

SNAP!

Emmett spun around just in time to see the rope break. Marty screamed as he suddenly swung into the ravine wall. "Marty! Are you all right?!" Emmett called.

Marty nodded, hanging onto the rope for dear life. Emily and Holly pulled him up and over onto solid ground. They stared at Emmett from across the ravine. "Don't you have any more rope?" Emily demanded, pulling at her hair in frustration.

"The – the wagon's outside the perimeter," Emmett admitted, looking around nervously. "I thought Spinbot would take care of everything important."

"At least you won't be eaten by the screeklings," Marty observed weakly.

"No – looks like I'm going to burn to death instead." Emmett backed away from the hungry flames. "Damn it, why didn't I think this through more. . . . Can you see if you can throw the rope back over?"

Holly tried, flinging it as hard as she could. The rope made it about halfway over before falling. Emmett looked back at the flames. The screeklings had calmed down now – they knew that it was only a matter of time. _I never thought this was how it was going to end,_ he thought, starting to cough from the smoke.

Suddenly, a figure appeared out of nowhere and vaulted over the flames. Emmett jumped back, startled. Before he could say a word, the mystery figure grabbed him around the waist. "Hold on tight," a female voice whispered in his ear.

Emmett just nodded, too stunned to reply. The mystery girl backed up a few paces, then took off for the edge of the ravine. _She – she isn't going to try _jumping_ it?!_ Emmett though, shocked.

She was. And to Emmett's surprise, they actually got about three-quarters of the way over before they started to fall. "You're good," he whispered.

The girl winced. "Not good enough."

"It was a–"

"Here, lady! Catch!"

The rope sailed toward them. Both Emmett and the girl made a grab for it, making sure to keep a tight hold on each other. The girl managed to catch it, and together they swung into the side of the ravine. Emmett gasped as the breath was knocked out of him. "Hard landing," he wheezed.

"Better than the alternative," the girl said, looking back at the furious screeklings.

Holly peered over the edge. "You two okay?"

"Yes," Emmett called back. "We'll be up directly." He released the girl. "I'd let you go first if not for modesty concerns," he admitted with a blush.

"Not a problem," the girl said. They climbed up the rope, trying to ignore the screeches on the other side of the ravine.

Emily, Holly, and Marty helped pull them up. Emily promptly pulled Emmett into a tight hug. "Oh, Emmett, I thought for sure we'd lost you," she cried.

"Damn glad you made it over here," Marty nodded, helping the girl to her feet. "Thank you for coming along when you did, miss."

"Yes," Emmett nodded, finally breaking free of Emily's grasp. "Thank you. You probably saved my–"

Emmett froze as he got his first proper look at the girl's face. She was _beautiful_, with long, curly brown hair that fell in a messy tangle over her shoulders, a straight, pert nose, a strong chin, and the most gorgeous brown eyes he had ever seen. She simply took his breath away. "Life," he managed to whisper, completely captivated.

To his surprise, the girl scowled. "You don't need to stare at me. I know what I look like."

Emmett blinked. "But – but you have such pretty eyes," he blurted.

It was the girl's turn to blink. "You were looking at my eyes?" she said softly.

"Well, yes. Where else would I–"

It suddenly hit him. In his previous love-struck moment, he hadn't noticed something else about her face. The girl was _covered_ in scars. "Oh! Oh, I see."

Emily frowned sympathetically. "Did you have some sort of an accident, miss? Did the screeklings get you?"

The girl lowered her eyes. "No. I – I was sort of – 'born' this way."

"Born? What do you–" Holly started.

Her eyes widened as it hit her. "You're a construct," she whispered. The girl nodded, keeping her eyes on her feet. "Wow. That's – pretty interesting, to be honest. I've never met a construct before."

The girl looked up. "You haven't?"

"We're from a small, very anti-Spark town," Emily explained. "Although – Marty, you've traveled. You must have met a few."

"A couple," Marty confirmed. "They're really not as common as you guys think. What's your name, miss?"

"C14R4," the girl rattled off.

Emmett blinked. "That's not a name, that's a number."

The girl shrugged. "That's how Dr. Clayton – my creator – named all of his creations. I was construct 14, race 4 for human. The construct before me was a dog – he was C13R2."

Emily scowled. "That's awful that you don't have a proper name."

"I'm used to it. Not like anyone thinks of me as much more than experiment fodder anyway." She shrugged and sighed. "Speaking of which, I'll be going now. Nice meeting you all."

"Wait a minute!" Emmett said, shocked. "You save my life, and then you just – leave?"

"I know you're interested in me because you've never seen a construct before, but I know better than to stay around. No one really wants to travel with a construct. I'm glad I was able to save your life – and now I'm finally away from those monsters."

"Why wouldn't we want you around?" Holly asked, confused. "Is there some sort of ban on traveling with constructs?"

C14R4 arched an eyebrow. "Do you need someone to carry your things?"

"I take it you haven't had many good experiences with people, have you?" Holly asked bluntly.

"No, I haven't," C14R4 responded just as bluntly. "So you'll have to excuse me if I take your hospitality with a grain of salt."

"I suppose that's what happens when your creator doesn't even bother to give you a proper name," Emmett grumbled. "Look, we have no intention of using you as cheap labor. I'm grateful. Really. Please stay."

C14R4 stared at them. "You mean that?"

"Of course," Emmett said, smiling. "It would be remiss of us to let the person who leaped a ravine for me wander the wastelands alone." C14R4 smiled back weakly.

"Hey everyone – come over here and look at this," Marty said abruptly, kneeling by the road. The group came over to see him pointing at some wagon tracks carved into the mud. "Somebody _was_ here – and recently, from the look of these tracks, pretty recently," he said, a very ugly expression on his face. "C14, did you hear any people come by in the last week or so?"

"A couple of days ago," C14R4 admitted. "I didn't go investigate, though – the last time I tried to approach a group of travelers, they threw rocks at me. Shortly after, I heard an explosion and assumed the worst."

"Looks like they lived," Holly snapped, following the trails with her eyes as they left the scene. "Also looks like we've found the bastards who blew up the bridge."

"Holly, please, don't lose your head," Emily cautioned. "I'm almost positive they ran into the screeklings too. Perhaps they saw blowing up the bridge as their only way to escape."

"Yeah, but that still sucks for us." Marty stood up. "I say we catch up with them and ask in person."

"Sounds good to me," Holly nodded. "Emmett, how are our supplies?"

Emmett checked the pile Spinbot had brought over. "Well, we have two bags of food and seven water flasks, which isn't bad. We also have Fetch, Marty's guitar, my Jules Verne, your spellbook, and my folder of inventions – slightly chewed." Looking at Spinbot, he added, "Last thing you were able to retrieve?"

Spinbot beeped a few times. "Well, thanks. Too bad you couldn't get my tent or anything like that."

"We'll manage," Holly said, picking up the food bags. "Let's start walking. I want to get as far away from those things as possible." She looked at C14R4, still hanging back a bit. "Are you coming?"

C14R4 hesitated a moment. Then she nodded and gathered up some water bottles. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Marty grinned, getting his guitar. "I'm Marty McFly, by the way. This is Holly Handlen, Emily Von Braun, and Emmett Von Braun."

"Nice to meet you all," C14R4 said.

"Our pleasure," Emmett assured her as they headed off.

Friday, March 13th

7:31 P.M.

Marty flopped down by the fire. "Whew! I'm exhausted."

"You're not the only one," Emily said, rubbing her eyes. "I feel like I've had ten years taken off my life."

Holly began passing around jerky and berries to everyone. "At least it's not raining anymore. We must have left that thunderstorm over Passholdt." She frowned over at C14R4. "Can you tell us what happened there?"

C14R4's face darkened. "Oh, I can tell you all right. Othar Tryggvassen."

Emmett nearly did a spit take. "Othar Tryggvassen?! That lunatic?"

"You know about him?"

"He's the reason we're out here on our own," Holly said, face darkening. "He murdered my mother and tried to kill Emmett."

"I haven't a clue why everyone calls him a hero," Marty nodded, the ugly expression back on his face. "He's a son of a bitch."

"That fits what I saw of him," C14R4 nodded. "He came into Passholdt about a month ago, telling the villagers that he was going to free them from the tyranny of Sparks. Naturally, they cheered him on – Dr. Clayton wasn't particularly well-liked." C14R4 sighed. "Not that I could really blame them. Dr. Clayton basically ignored his projects once he was done with them, which led to a few of them getting out and running wild through the streets. I got more attention than most, being his maid, but still. . .I wasn't very sorry to see Othar kill him."

"So then what? Did one of his creations get loose after Othar left?" Marty asked.

C14R4 shook her head. "Not exactly. Before he died, Dr. Clayton was working on a formula to turn ordinary people and animals into monsters – the screeklings. _He_ planned to use them against some other Spark he was having a feud with – he was kind enough not to want to unleash those things on the villagers." She swallowed. "The day Othar killed him, he had had me cleaning out the secret passageways. I was just finishing up when I saw Othar in his lab, looking over the powder. He remarked to himself that he wasn't about to waste such a wonderful experiment. Puzzled, I secretly followed him as he took the powder outside – and – and he dumped it in the town water supply!"

"Great Scott!" Emmett gasped.

C14R4 nodded, eyes filling with tears. "I fled the house before Othar could find me and tried to warn some of the villagers. They called me a stupid construct who was jealous of their savior. They just wouldn't listen. . . ." She twisted her hands in her lap. "So I left. I've been living out in the woods ever since."

"Didn't those things every try to attack you?" Emily asked, jaw hanging open.

"Once or twice. Luckily, I was able to fight them off." C14R4 sighed. "I know I should have left before, but Passholdt was the only home I'd ever known. I had to see if anything had survived. Plus – I don't know what it was like where you lived, but around here, constructs are treated like second-class citizens. I didn't want to go somewhere else and end up being run out of town. I was just screwing up my courage to leave when you four came along." She looked at each of them in turn. "I've never met anyone who treated me nicely before. It's a bit overwhelming." She looked down at her hands. "I'm making a fool of myself now. . . ."

"No you aren't," Holly said soothingly. "We've all had our turn at being the outcast back home. We know how you feel."

Emily nodded, offering her some more jerky. "You're quite welcome to stay with us. We don't care how you came into being."

"Well, I do, but strictly out of scientific curiosity," Emmett confessed.

C14R4 smiled a little. "I figured you were a Madboy, with all those inventions I saw in that wagon. You're already thinking up tons of improvements for me, aren't you?"

Emmett suddenly turned pink and looked away. "No," he said quietly. "You're perfect already, Miss Clayton."

"Emmett's not really into the biological stuff," Marty said as C14R4 blinked. "He's kinda squeamish."

"Yes, none of us are that into human experimentation," Holly said.

"Well. . .I am going to need maintenance. . . ."

"We'll do our best when the time comes. At the very least, we'll try to find someone who's more knowledgeable than we are."

C14R4 smiled. "Thank you."

Holly nodded and clapped her hands. "All right. Now that that's settled, you need a name."

"I told you, it's–"

"I'll be damned if I call you C14R4. You need a real name. Any preferences?"

"Er – no, not really."

Marty studied her. "Lucy? Jill?"

"Ashley? Susan?" Emily suggested.

"Sarah – oh, no, not Sarah," Holly quickly backtracked. "Kara?"

"Clara."

All eyes went to Emmett. "Pardon?" C14R4 asked.

"Clara," Emmett repeated. "It's – it's what your 'name' looks like, anyway."

C14R4 considered it. "Clara. . .you know, I like that," she smiled. "Clara Clayton."

"Done." Holly held out a hand. "Welcome to the group, Clara."

"Thank you," Clara said, shaking it. "Do you mind if I ask why Othar was after you?"

"That's a long story," Marty said.

"I don't mind long stories. Dr. Clayton often made me listen to his lectures about his latest experiments. I'm sure you'll be more interesting."

Emmett chuckled. "We'll try to be. It all really started when Marty arrived in town, about a month ago. . . ."

The foursome related their adventures to their new acquaintance, carefully omitting the parts about Emmett's possible parentage. Although they liked Clara, they didn't know how she felt about Baron Wulfenbach or the Heterodynes yet. Clara in turn told them about life as Dr. Clayton's maid. By the end of it all, they were pretty firm friends. "I'm glad you were able to get out of that place safely," Emily said as they drew lots for watches.

"I'm glad you were too," Clara admitted. "I don't think any other group of travelers would have been this kind to me. Thank you."

"It's our pleasure," Emmett said, turning slightly pink again.

As usual, Marty got first watch. He caught Emmett's arm as the others prepared to try and sleep. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," Emmett said, frowning in concern. He and Marty walked a few feet away from the girls. "What's on your mind?"

Marty suddenly grinned mischievously. "I think it's more like _who's_ on _yours_," he sing-songed. "Quite taken with our new construct friend, aren't you?"

Emmett looked miffed. "Marty, she saved my life. I have a debt of gratitude toward her. And she's someone who's had a rough life like us. Why shouldn't I be kind to her?"

Marty nodded. "Well, yeah. She's a nice gal and all. But let's face it, Emmett – you like her. I saw the way you were looking at her."

"She is merely a friendly acquaintance. I was in shock when I first saw her."

Marty put a friendly arm around him. "Take it from the man who's seen couples in love all over. You're loopy for this girl. The looks you kept throwing her, the way you said her name when you first suggested it – and come on, what Spark says another Sparks' work is perfect?"

"She _is_ perfect!" Emmett argued. "All right, so she has some cosmetic damage. But she's beautiful anyway. Not to mention smart, self-reliant, brave–

"I really am hopeless, aren't I?"

Marty chuckled as Emmett put his head in his hands. "Hey, it's okay. You're just following a long-standing tradition. Granted, it's the _damsel _who's supposed to be in distress, but. . . ."

Emmett sighed. "I – I don't know. When I saw her – I've never felt anything like that before. It was like there was nothing else in the world but her."

Marty lightly squeezed his shoulders. "We noticed. But hey – I think she likes you back."

"Oh, no. . . ."

"Come on! She liked that name you picked out. And did you see the looks she kept throwing you when we told her about our adventures? She obviously thinks you're pretty brave too."

"That's true," Emmett said, a small smile appearing on his face. "Clara's a beautiful name, isn't it?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah. But I just thought I should remind you that we _did_ just meet her. Don't go making any proclamations of undying love just yet. At least not until we tell her what's up with your family tree."

The smile vanished. "I know, and I won't," he promised. "I'm not quite ready for that sort of disappointment yet."

"Disappointment? Emmett, she might not say no."

"Oh, yes she will." Emmett got up and began ticking things off on his fingers. "First, she may not want to be with me because I'm related to Baron Wulfenbach. Second, she's a construct. She may not want to be with a Spark. And third, she also may not want to be with a regular human who will age and die. With those sorts of odds, I'm just setting myself up for disaster if I admit any feelings of love." Before Marty could respond, he turned and walked back to the group.

Marty sighed. "Damn. Why does he always have to focus on the worst-case scenario? Oh well. Like they say, 'the course of true love never did run smooth.'" He grabbed his guitar and settled down for his watch.


	7. Circus Freaks

Chapter 7

Sunday, March 15th, 1895

Wastelands

3:27 P.M.

"Okay, whose idea was it to stray from the main path again?"

Holly glared at the trees around her as she nearly tripped on another root. "I mean, the wagon tracks were on the _road_," she continued, switching the bag of jerky from her left hand to her right. "This side trip is unnecessary."

"Holly, we're here to look for clanks and any edible plant life," Emmett explained patiently, leading the group through the woods. "We can't afford to let our food stores run low now. And if I can find more clanks, I can start rebuilding my old designs."

"Couldn't we have looked for clanks while on the road?" Emily griped.

"When's the last time we found a good clank on the road?" Emmett countered. "The forest hides all the true wonders."

"Dr. Clayton did like to rampage around the woods with his constructs," Clara shrugged. "It might be the same with clanks."

"Exactly! Plus, if we happen to catch up with that wagon train, it might not look so much like we're stalking it."

Marty looked around. "Yeah, randomly emerging from the woods will look _so_ much better."

"Oh hush. We can safely claim we were lost if they question us. Or perhaps running from a monster."

A shiver went though the group. "Yeah, good point," Marty admitted.

Spinbot suddenly flew up to them, cheeping excitedly. Emmett's eyes lit up. "You found a clank? Where?!" Spinbot clicked a few times, then flew to the north. Emmett grinned at his friends. "You four take a breather. I'm off to check this out." He dashed off after Spinbot.

"Emmett, wait! We should–" Emily stopped as Emmett disappeared into the maze of trees. "He's going to be the death of me. . . ."

"Marty, go after him," Holly said, finding a stump to sit on. "You're his lab assistant – he listens to you when he's like this."

"Okay." Marty smiled at Clara. "I think you should come too, though. I mean, you've got experience with Sparks too. And you _did_ save his life, so he should listen to you."

Clara turned slightly pink. "I don't have that much experience with Sparks like him," she said. "Dr. Clayton worked almost strictly with the biological. But if you think I'd be useful, I'll come. I – I rather like to watch him work."

Emily and Holly exchanged a grin. "Well then, Emily and I can take care of ourselves. Go on before he gets himself into real trouble." Marty and Clara nodded, then disappeared after their friend.

About a mile and a half ahead, Emmett finally caught up with Spinbot. The little clank was hovering next to a huge, roughly man-shaped device. The clank was covered in moss and starting to rust, but most of it still looked useable. Emmett beamed. "Perfect. Just have to ensure that it's been properly deactivated. . . ." He searched for a handhold in the metal, then began to climb up the back of the machine.

Halfway up and around, his hand suddenly touched what felt like a rope hanging off of the top of the clank. Emmett paused, puzzled. _What's a rope doing on–_

Someone's hand touched his.

There were two very loud yelps of surprise. Emmett released the rope, then pulled himself up and over the shoulder of the clank. Staring back at him was a girl about his age, with long blond hair tied back in a braid and bright green eyes behind round glasses. There was a long moment of silence. "Hello," Emmett finally offered.

"Hello," the girl replied, frowning at him. "What are you doing out here?"

"Scavenging for parts – the same as you, I assume. I didn't mean to interrupt your climb."

"It's all right." The girl continued to frown at him. "You look somewhat familiar. Have we met?"

"No – but have you ever seen a picture of Gilgamesh Wulfenbach? I've heard that I resemble him."

"That's it, yes. The hair and eyes are pretty similar. Though the nose is completely wrong." She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you part of the Baron's army or something like that?" she asked, a dangerous note creeping into her voice.

"No, not at all," Emmett said quickly. "Just a random Madboy wandering the Wastelands." He repositioned himself so he could hold out his hand. "I'm Emmett, by the way. Emmett Von Braun."

"Agatha Clay," the girl introduced herself, cautiously shaking his hand.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, sizing each other up. Then Agatha smiled a little, apparently deciding he wasn't a threat. "So, do you want to see if this thing is fully dead yet?"

"Of course," Emmett grinned back. "Where do you suppose the control panel is?"

"I think it's over here – ah!" Agatha climbed pulled herself up and opened a large hatch on the front of the clank. Emmett followed her over, and they both peered inside, humming softly to themselves.

The inner workings looked relatively intact, with just a few cracked displays. Set in the middle of the machinery was a large brass dial. Emmett raised an eyebrow as he looked at the different settings. "**Aktiv? I thought being a Spark meant you had to have at least basic spelling skills.**"

Agatha just shrugged. "**Well, nothing for it but to try and turn it on,**" she murmured. She switched the dial over to "aktiv."

The clank promptly sprang to life, flailing and sparking madly. Emmett grabbed onto Agatha's rope and held on for dear life. "**This went well!**" he snapped sarcastically.

"**Don't worry, I know how to deal with–**"

"Agatha!"

"Hold on! We'll–"

"Emmett!"

"What did you do now?!"

Both Emmett and Agatha looked down, startled. Standing below them were four people, gaping up at the scene and doing their best to stay out of the clank's range. Emmett recognized Marty and Clara – the other two were unfamiliar. "**Your friends?**" he asked, giving the clank a hard kick in the dial. There was a snap, and the clank began to flail even more wildly, knocking down a few trees. "**Great Scott. . . .**"

"**Yes. I'll be down in a minute!**" she yelled to them. "**Hang on,**" she said to Emmett, delivering another kick to the innards. This one completely smashed them, sending parts flying. The clank powered down, then began to tilt. Agatha pulled her rope off of its head, and she and Emmett leapt clear as it collapsed into a useless heap.

"Nice work," Emmett said admiringly, dusting himself off.

"Thanks," Agatha smiled. "Though you probably helped soften it up a bit."

One of Agatha's companions, a young man with black hair and an earring, ran forward. "Are you all right?" he demanded, looking frightened.

"Sure!" Agatha reassured him. "We saw stuff like this in Beetleburg sometimes. It's always best to disable it permanently before digging in."

The other man, a hulking fellow wearing nothing but brown pants and a necklace, looked suspiciously over at Marty and Clara as they jogged over to their friend. "Who are you?"

"They're with me," Emmett said quickly. "We're just a bunch of travelers here. I'm Emmett, and this is Marty and Clara. We mean you no harm."

"Especially not you," Marty said, looking the man over.

Clara nodded absently, her attention focused on Emmett. "Are you all right?" she asked, dusting him off. "It looked like you were going to get crushed for a moment."

Emmett blushed slightly. Her touch always sent a shiver up his spine. "Fine," he said, his voice an octave higher than normal. He swallowed and tried again. "Fine. Agatha here took care of the clank perfectly."

"Like I said, I have experience. I'm Agatha Clay, and this is Lars–" she pointed at the younger man "– and Yeti."

"Hi," Marty said. "You guys scavenging for food and parts like us?"

"If you're with a circus, yes," Yeti replied.

Emmett, Marty, and Clara exchanged a look. "A circus?" Marty repeated slowly. Yeti and Lars nodded. "Did you guys go near a place called Passholdt recently? Specifically, the bridge leading out of town?"

Yeti and Lars suddenly looked uneasy. Agatha, however, got upset. "I knew it! I told Master Payne we should have looked into it!"

"And gotten eaten by those buglies?" Lars said, shuddering.

"_They_ could have gotten eaten! Are you former villagers?" Agatha asked.

"I am," Clara said. "The rest of them were travelers just passing through."

Lars frowned. "You were a villager? But you're a con–"

Emmett glared at him. Lars visibly wilted, letting his voice trail off. "The two aren't mutually exclusive," Emmett said coldly.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Holly and Emily appeared, lugging their supplies. "We heard a crash – what did Emmett bring down this time?" Emily asked.

"And who are all of you?" Holly asked, putting down her load.

"They're from the circus that blew up the bridge," Marty said, shooting them a look.

"It was that or get eaten – or worse!" Yeti snapped. "We didn't know you were on the other side! If you have a problem with it, talk to Master Payne yourself!"

"You know, I think we'll do just that," Emmett said. "If only to see if he'll give us some supplies. We lost plenty with the wagon."

"Unless you can tell us right now that he'll say no," Holly added.

"I don't think so," Agatha said. "Master Payne's may be a bit hard-nosed, but he's decent overall. Did he send you two after me for some reason?" she added to Yeti and Lars.

Yeti smirked. "No. Lars here was just worried about you."

Lars fidgeted nervously. "Well – uh – this _is_ a dangerous place. . . ."

Agatha smirked as well. "It's fine, Lars. In fact, now that you're here, I won't waste such a great opportunity!" She pointed to the downed clank. "Pick a piece and start lifting."

Yeti and Lars looked at each other for a moment. Then they reached down and grabbed some parts. Emmett grabbed part of one of the arms with a huff. "I helped destroy it," he said as Agatha blinked at him. "I should get part of the spoils."

"We're going to talk to Master Payne anyway," Marty shrugged, grabbing another bit. Agatha smiled and began filling up her wagon.

After a few minutes, the clank had been sorted out. Agatha led the way out of the woods, smiling at her little entourage. "Thanks, boys!"

Lars just grunted. "Hey, you're the one who said it could be dangerous," Yeti said. "Happy?"

Emily fell into step beside Emmett. "Do you really think this is a good idea?" she asked quietly. "This 'Master Payne' could just throw us out the minute we get there."

"It's worth a shot," Emmett shrugged. "If he refuses us, at least we tried. If he doesn't, we'll get some food that _isn't_ meat jerky or berries. And we can warn them that any nearby rivers and streams might be contaminated."

Emily winced. "That's true, isn't it? We don't want anyone else ending up like Passholdt."

"Of course not. Granted, researching the screeklings _would_ be interesting, but I think we have a viable-enough subject group." Emmett gazed off into the distance, getting lost in his thoughts. "I have to wonder what sort of potion would be capable of creating creatures like those. They'd very different from normal humans. The potion would have to remove or shift a lot of bone and muscle mass – their arms and legs seems much longer compared to ours."

"Hey, Emmett. . . ."

"Not now, Marty! And judging from the general coloration we saw, the potion would also have to drain most of the pigmentation from the body. And of course it seems to cause the brain to atrophy, allowing earlier, animalistic tendencies–

"Ooof!"

Emmett found himself lying in front of a tree. Marty sniggered. "Hey, I tried to warn you," he said in response to Emmett's wounded look.

Emmett sighed as he got back up. "Damn Spark 'blackouts. . . .'"

"Everything okay back there?" Agatha called.

"Fine," Emmett called back, gathering his things. "How much further?"

"Not much." Agatha pushed through some bramble. "Ah, here we are!"

The group crowded around her. Sitting in a clearing in front of them were a large number of brightly-colored wagons, positioned in a rough circle. People of all shapes, colors, and sizes swarmed around them. Agatha grinned at her new companions. "Welcome to Master Payne's Circus of Adventure."

"Hey, Agatha!"

A little boy ran up to them, blue eyes shining with excitement. "Did you find it? Did you get all the parts you need? Who's these folks? Are they show people too?"

Agatha chuckled. "Yes, I think I got everything I needed. Lars and Yeti kindly followed me to help carry things." Lars and Yeti both gave her a look. "And these people are just some people who ended up helping me with the clank. They wanted to talk to Master Payne."

"We were on the other side of the Passholdt bridge," Emmett explained. "We're hoping that you can lend us some supplies."

The boy nodded, looking serious. "We didn't mean to strand anybody. But those buglies were gonna eat us."

"So we hear," Marty nodded. "Before we forget, you guys had better test any water you find. Clara here told us those things were the result of a chemical a Spark dumped in the town water supply."

Lars and Yeti exchanged nervous looks. "We'll tell the Countess," Yeti promised. "She generally handles that sort of thing."

More people began to crowd around them, obviously interested in the newcomers. Two figures pushed their way to the front of the crowd – a girl and a very large white cat wearing a red coat. "Hey, Agatha, who'd you–"

"KITTY!"

Emily dropped her load and dashed forward, scooping up the cat. "Oh, I love kitties!" she squealed, hugging the very confused animal to her chest. "I always wanted a kitty when I was little! He's just adorable – especially with that coat! Oh, aren't you just the cutest cat ever?"

"Well, it's about time someone recognized that fact."

Emily yelped and nearly dropped the cat. "It talks!"

"We heard," Holly replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"I'm a he, not an it!" the cat said, bristling.

"This is Krosp," Agatha explained with a laugh. "He's a construct I met, created to be the King of all Cats."

"Well, that explains the fancy coat," Holly nodded.

"Nah, that's one of mine," the boy grinned. "We gave it to him when he started cleaning up after the horses."

Krosp glared at the youngster. "I would like to retain _some_ of my dignity, thank you very much Balthazar."

Emily frowned at him a minute. "Well, I think you look very handsome – even if you're a bit of an odd kitty," she said, putting him back down. Krosp grinned at her.

Emmett was about to ask if Master Payne was anywhere nearby when he noticed something unusual about the girl who had been speaking to them before. Her hair was bright _green_. "Um, excuse me, miss?" The woman looked at him. "You hair – is that natural?"

The woman held a lock out in front of her eyes for inspection. "Yeah, it is," she said amiably. "You should see the hair colors we get back home – the whole rainbow's up for grabs. Green's almost normal there." She held out a hand. "I'm Zeetha."

"Emmett," Emmett said, shaking hands. "Sorry if I offended you at all. I was just curious."

"I'm used to it," Zeetha shrugged. "After all, nobody I've met has been to Skifander."

Emily frowned. "Skifander? That sounds familiar."

"Didn't Mother used to tell us bedtime stories set there?" Emmett nodded thoughtfully.

Zeetha's eyes went wide. Suddenly she grabbed Emmett's shirtfront and yanked him close, forcing him to drop his arm. "You too?! Did she ever tell you where Skifander was?"

"What? Uh – some city lost in a jungle–" Emmett blurted, caught off-guard.

"I know that! Did she ever mention a country? A continent?!"

"I was six when she told us those stories! You don't pay attention to that sort of thing when you're six!"

"Do you at least know where I can find her?" Zeetha asked desperately.

"She's dead," Emmett said quietly. "My father murdered her."

"ARGH!" Zeetha dropped Emmett and yanked at her hair. "No! Not this _again_! I thought – a lead, _finally_ – and now–" She yanked two nasty-looking swords out of the sheaths on her back.

Emmett whipped out his sword as well. "Please don't make me set that green hair on fire."

"She's not going to attack _you_, she's just upset," Agatha rushed to say. "And – set her on fire with a _sword_?"

Emmett clicked the switch. Agatha blinked as flames obligingly burst out the end. "Oh! That's – neat."

Zeetha glared down at him, arms trembling as she struggled to keep herself in check. "Who told your mother, then?" she demanded. "Do you know if he's still around?"

"I don't know! She said she'd heard it from an old friend named Baa-arry," Emmett said, his eyes going wide as the full implications hit him.

Emily realized it too, and shook her head. "He's long gone," she told Zeetha sadly. "I'm sorry."

Zeetha growled to herself in frustration. "Why does this always happen?" she snarled, turning her swords on a nearby tree. In a flurry of motion, it was reduced to splinters. "Why?!"

"Zeetha, it's – it's only happened twice," a short blond girl said, eyeing her nervously.

"It still counts!"

"What's going on here?"

A large man with curly, reddish hair and a thick beard approached the group, followed by a skinny black-haired man and a tall blond woman. "Abner said you came back with some visitors, Agatha?"

"They've rather upset Zeetha, Master Payne," the short blond said, frowning at them.

"We didn't mean to," Emily said quickly as Zeetha finished demolishing her tree. "We're the Von Braun siblings – I'm Emily, this is Emmett. And these are our friends Holly Handlen, Marty McFly, and Clara Clayton." Holly, Marty, and Clara waved.

Master Payne nodded – then frowned rather impressively at them. "Von Braun?" he repeated slowly. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Elias Von Braun?"

Emily and Emmett started. "How do you know our father?" Emily asked.

A ripple of whispers went through the crowd. The group exchanged a few nervous looks. "Did I miss something before?" Clara asked them, baffled.

"I don't think so," Marty replied. "We're just curious," he told the circus. "That psycho tried to murder us, and we don't want to be anywhere _near_ him."

Payne's expression changed from suspicion to surprise. "Oh?"

"Yes, he–"

Emmett stopped and looked at Payne carefully. "Wait. What's that lunatic **been up to?**"

Payne sighed. "I only heard about him at our last stop. But what I heard was enough to make me suspicious of anyone with that last name. Apparently, Elias Von Braun has taken up Othar Tryggvassen's job. Or, what he _thinks_ is his job. From what I heard, he'll kill anyone who shows _any_ interest in science. Says he doesn't want anyone to end up like his bastard son. A lot of people have started comparing him to the Other, frankly." He looked at Emmett. "I suppose the son would be you. I thought you might be like him, but if he tried to kill you. . . ."

Emmett's jaw dropped. "Great Scott," he whispered. "I knew he hated the Spark, but – but this–" He put his head in his hands. "This must have been going on ever since I Broke Through."

Marty put a friendly arm around him, sensing another bout of self-loathing. "This isn't your fault. Shit happens. It just happens to us on a more regular basis."

"Sounds like you lot have a story to tell," the taller blond noted, adjusting the goggles sitting on her hairline.

"They do – I'm new to all this," Clara admitted.

"You lived in Passholdt – you just have a slightly different story," Holly argued. "That's really the only reason we're bothering you, Master Payne. We were on the other side of that bridge, and when it blew up, we lost a lot of supplies. Do you have any you could spare?" She batted her eyelashes. "Please?"

"A few, I suppose," Master Payne said off-handedly. "The construct lived in Passholdt?"

"Right up until the screeklings hit," Clara nodded.

"Screeklings?"

"You call them the buglies," Emmett explained. "Like we told your employees, you had better test any water you come into contact with for a while. Clara saw Othar Tryggvassen dump a chemical into Passholdt's water supply that changed the villagers into those monsters."

There was another ripple of whispers at that. "Othar Tryggvassen? But he's a hero!" Abner protested. "He wouldn't do anything like that."

"He's a _murderer,_" Holly said viciously. "He killed my mother when she tried to stop him from killing Emmett."

"He and Elias teamed up back in Hill Valley," Emmett nodded, face going dark. "He took Elias on as a sidekick."

"I don't believe that," the shorter blond said angrily.

"I do," Agatha replied, causing a few startled glances in her direction. "I've _met_ Othar. He's a monomaniacal bully with delusions of godhood. He tried to kill me too."

"He seemed rather sweet on you at our last stop," Zeetha pointed out with a faint smirk. She seemed calmer now that she'd taken out her frustrations on the tree.

"That's only because he wants me as a sidekick again. Probably because he keeps killing them."

"Or he's desperate for female company," Holly said with a slight grin.

"Perhaps," Agatha nodded, grinning back. "I'm just glad to be rid him. Though I'm sorry you had to deal with him."

"We gave him what-for, trust us," Emmett said coldly. "Anyway – about those supplies, Master Payne?"

"The Countess and I will see what we can spare," Master Payne nodded. "In the meantime, you're welcome to stay in the camp."

"Thank you very much, sir."

The crowd began to disperse, the excitement caused by the newcomers beginning to wear off. The shorter blond approached them after talking to Abner for a moment. "I'm Pix," she introduced herself. "Do any of you know anything about show business?"

"I sing songs about the Heterodynes – I was a traveling minstrel," Marty replied. "That's how I met up with Emmett, Emily, and Holly. I did a couple of shows in their hometown."

"Really? Mind giving us a demonstration?" Abner asked. "We're always on the lookout for some new talent."

"Sure, I guess." Marty got his guitar and started in on a rendition of "The Heterodyne Boys and the Prisoner of the Electric God." The remaining performers nodded approvingly. "You've got some real talent there," Yeti admitted.

"Thanks. I've had a lot of practice."

"Are you show people too?" Balthazar asked Holly.

"Well – I can do this–" Holly murmured something under her breath. Brightly-colored light spilled from her hands, forming a rainbow over everyone's heads. Holly made it do a little dance, then vanished it with a clap.

The crowd broke into scattered applause. Holly grinned and curtsied. "That was great," Balthazar beamed.

"I've had a lot of practice too," Holly chuckled.

Agatha looked at Emmett. "Interesting friends you've got."

"I suppose that's saying something, coming from a girl who pals around with a talking cat and a girl–"

"Princess," Zeetha corrected.

"Princess from a lost city," Emmett finished. He looked at the pile of parts they had dragged back. "Are there any specific parts you need, or can I just grab what I like?" he asked.

"I don't think I need anything specific," Agatha admitted, sorting through the various bits and pieces. "I'm trying to fix the circus Silverodeon. It's slow going at times, but I think I've got it licked now. Do you have any special projects in mind?"

"After that meeting with the screeklings, new and better weapons," Emmett said, joining her in her hunt. "My main idea is for a type of lightning gun – powerful enough to flash-fry all who stand in my way." He rubbed his hands together, looking like he was about to start cackling. "Perhaps I could **even build it into my fire sword. That thing needs a refurbish anyway – what do you think about poison gas?**"

"**Sounds great,**" Agatha grinned.

"Hang on, I don't think it's such a good idea," Clara interrupted. "Poison gas kills _everyone_, not just your enemies. Listen to the girl who had to save her creator when he tried to gas someone he didn't like."

"**Hmm. That is problematic,**" Emmett nodded, looking thoughtful. "**Perhaps I should substitute sleeping gas for now.**"

"Why are you so focused on weapons, anyway?" Emily asked, frowning distastefully. "I though you wanted to be one of the good guys."

"Designing complicated weaponry provides me with a source of enjoyment and also assists me in lengthening our life spans," Emmett retorted. "Most ordinary people don't separating the more reasonable Sparks from the less reasonable ones. We know for a fact the general response is simply, 'Spark! Kill it!'"

"Or, in some cases, 'Spark! Put it in a jar for life and study it!'" Agatha said, sounding surprisingly bitter.

"Yes, I suppose. If you ticked off the wrong rival." Turning back to Emily, he added, "You have to admit, my fire sword has certainly come in handy, hasn't it?"

"It has – but I thought you wanted to make things that didn't involving blowing other things up, or setting them on fire!"

"I have been working on developing time travel theories. . . ."

"Hey! Who iz de new guys?"

Emmett jumped as three grinning, fanged faces appeared around him. Emily squealed and ran to hide behind a stunned Marty and Holly. "Jaegermonsters!"

"What the – is the circus affiliated with Baron Wulfenbach?" Marty asked Pix.

"Oh, no! These are some wild ones who've – er – joined up," Pix said, looking distinctly ill at ease.

"Joined up? Why would a Jaeger want to join the circus?" Clara asked, baffled.

"It'z fon!" the there Jaegers chorused, still grinning brightly. "Ve gets lots ov gud food, and meet lots ov pipple!"

"Especially vimmen," one added, a green one with a large nose and some healthy stubble.

Emily backed further away. "Aren't there ways of getting them to _leave_?" she whispered to Lars.

"They _did_ save my life when they blew up the bridge," Lars admitted, though he didn't look any more comfortable than anyone else. "And they've been surprisingly good at not killing anybody."

Holly cocked her head, studying the group. "So, do you lot have names?" she asked cautiously.

"Hy'm Dimo," the green one said proudly.

"Maxim," the second, a purple Jaeger wearing rather fancy-looking clothing, said.

"Oggie," the third, a somewhat human-looking Jaeger with a ram's horn and bear-like feet, introduced himself. "Ve's just some guys looking fer adventure."

Emmett looked annoyed. "_Jaegers_ got treated better than Clara – at least name-wise," he muttered. To them he said, "We're just here for supplies."

"Oh, I don't know," Holly said, looking around. "This place looks like fun. Besides, isn't it every kid's dream to run off and join the circus?"

"You think we should stay?" Emily asked in disbelief. "But – there's–" her eyes flicked back to the Jaegers.

"Already zhe's rendered zpeechless by our charms," Maxim bragged, posing.

"Yes, your 'charms,'" Marty nodded.

"I don't know, Holly," Emmett said cautiously. "We don't even know the destination of this circus. Or if they're willing to take on five new people at once."

"Ho! Vell, ve can tell hyu vere ve iz goink – Mechanicsburg," Maxim said, leaning toward Emmett. "As for hyus joinink up, hy–"

Maxim stopped abruptly, frowning. Before Emmett could say anything, he leaned closer – and _sniffed_ the teen. Emmett stared at him. "Can I help you. . . ?"

Maxim ignored him, waving Dimo and Oggie closer. "Schmell him," he said, sounding utterly baffled.

Dimo and Oggie leaned in and sniffed. Their eyes went wide. Oggie turned back to Maxim. "_Dem_. Vhat do hyu tink?"

"Hy tink ve should tok," Dimo said. The trio began to walk away, looking surprisingly serious. "Wha – wait!" Emmett cried, suddenly very nervous. "What is it? Did my smell somehow offend you?"

"Emmett, if it offended them, you'd be dead," Marty pointed out.

"Ja," Oggie agreed easily. "Hyu schmell _goot_."

And with that, they left, leaving the group to stare after them. Emmett blinked a few times. "Was I just hit on by Jaegers?"

"Eugh," Emily shuddered.

Holly, however, smiled. "I don't know," she said playfully. "That purple one might be worth going after. Maxim, was it?"

Emmett slapped a hand to his forehead. "Only _you_ could actually entertain such an idea."

Agatha lifted an eyebrow. "And they call _us_ crazy?"

"Actually, I'm a Spark too."

"Oh."

Pix frowned. "I guess that sort of explains it. . . ."

"She's relatively harmless," Marty assured the blond. "Anyway, you said you were repairing a Silverodeon, Agatha? If you need any help with the tuning, I'm here."

"Thanks, but I'm fine. My mother gave me piano lessons when I was younger," Agatha said with a smile. "But if you want to help me, I won't stop you. It's been rather slow going as of late. And I want to talk more about those Passholdt monsters as well." Agatha pointed to a wagon in the distance. "It's over this way, near the Baba Yaga. Come on."

The group followed Agatha over to what looked like a large pile of piano parts. Clara glanced back at the other wagons. "The other performers don't really trust us, do they?"

"They acted the same way around me at first," Agatha said. "You never know what's lurking out there in the Wastelands. If you do join, it'll get better." She sat down by the pile and grabbed some tools.

"How come you're not afraid?" Holly asked, curious.

"Well, I wasn't sure what to make of you at first. But once you said you were from Passholdt–" Agatha sighed and looked at them. "None of us _really _wanted you to get stuck in that situation. We just had our own interests to think about. And now that I know you've also had a run-in with Othar – well, you might say we're kindred spirits."

"I see," Holly smiled. "So, where are you from?"

"I grew up in Beetleburg – one of the big towns. How about you?"

"We're from a little town called Hill Valley," Emmett said, sitting down across from her. "Have you heard of it?"

"I might have, around Transylvania Polygnostic University." She frowned as she worked on the remains of a keyboard. "Or was it Grass Valley?"

"Could have been – Grass Valley was my hometown," Marty said, looking over the scattered parts with interest. "And – and I'm sure a place like Beetleburg would hear about a slaver wasp attack," he added, a bit more quietly.

"That's it! Dr. Beetle had ordered something from them at about–"

Agatha suddenly turned white. "Wait. . .could he have gotten it from there? It would make sense – except that it wasn't activated. Unless you could reuse it somehow. . . ."

"What do you mean? Reuse what?" Emily asked.

Agatha grinned nervously. "Nothing. Just talking to myself aloud."

The group was still quite curious, but decided not to press the issue. They couldn't expect Agatha to reveal all to them right away. "Well, you could have heard of Hill Valley as well," Emmett said. "We had a college too."

"Oh. Maybe we wrote to you once or twice," Agatha nodded. "What was your ruling Spark like?"

"Very dead," Holly said, playing with Spinbot.

Agatha blinked a few times. "But you said you had a university."

"Well, we _had_ a ruling Spark – he was killed near the end of the Other War," Emmett explained. "Hill Valley seemed determined to prove that, whatever a Spark could do, a normal person could do better. So the university remained open. Stripped of all the 'suspicious' classes, of course." Emmett shook his head. "I hated living there. I was a total outcast because of my love for science."

Agatha smiled sympathetically. "I wasn't exactly well-liked at Trans Poly U. either. I was something of a klutz, to be honest. Most people assumed that Dr. Beetle took me on solely because of my looks."

"That's disgusting," Holly snapped. "As if us girls weren't treated badly enough already."

Emmett nodded absently, his mind on a different subject. "You actually worked for Dr. Beetle? The same Dr. Beetle who taught the Heterodyne Boys and the Mongfishes?" Agatha nodded, making an adjustment to the keyboard's workings. "That's amazing! What is he like in person?"

Agatha got a sadly wistful look on her face. "He was a rather kind man, once you got to know him. He was always nice to me. Even when I was the most inept person in the university, he let me stay and work for him. He was wonderful."

"So why did you leave?" Marty asked.

Agatha stopped working and looked at the ground. "He was murdered," she said quietly. "He and Baron Wulfenbach got into a terrible fight – it was awful." She sighed deeply. "I was forced to leave. I had to run for my life, in fact."

"Oh, Agatha, I'm sorry," Emmett said quietly. He made a motion to comfort her, then pulled back, not sure if he should. They had only just met, after all. "We understand about that all too well. Marty was forced to flee his town after the slaver wasp attack, Clara had to abandon Passholdt after the monsters took over, and we had to escape from Hill Valley before an angry mob found us. Not to mention Elias Von Braun and Othar Tryggvassen."

Agatha looked back up. "That's awful about your father. At least my family didn't want to kill me for being a Spark. They even tried to help me escape from Baron Wulfenbach."

"What would Wulfenbach want with you?" Clara asked. "'Clay' doesn't sound like the sort of name he'd have to bully into submission."

"He thought some thief who stole from me was a Spark, and that I was his – girlfriend," Agatha explained with a wince. "It's a very, very long story. Suffice to say, Baron Wulfenbach now thinks I'm dead, and I want it to stay that way." She went back to work on the Silverodeon. "I'm traveling with the circus to Mechanicsburg – I'm supposed to have family there. Where are you headed?"

The group exchanged a nervous look. None of them thought it would be particularly wise to tell Agatha they were _searching_ for Castle Wulfenbach. "Nowhere, really," Emmett said finally. "We're just trying to survive."

Agatha looked at them suspiciously. "Really? No destination at all?"

"No fixed one, anyway," Holly said. "We don't have any family waiting for us anywhere."

"_None_ of you?"

"My creator was killed by Othar, and his other experiments were destroyed," Clara said.

"My parents were killed after that slaver wasp attack," Marty explained. "And I have no idea where my brother and sister are."

"Father died of the flu, mother murdered by Othar," Holly sighed.

"And we explained about our family situation," Emily said. "Life has not been kind to us."

"Yes, that much is obvious."

There was a sudden "EEE" from somewhere within the pile of parts. What looked like a little clank made out of a pocket watch popped up near the keyboard, looking at the newcomers with one eye. "Oh! Hello there," Emmett said, surprised. "What's this?"

"A little clank I made," Agatha said as it scrambled across the keyboard. "I'm not sure what to call it yet. It's a self-replicating helper clank."

"Self-replicating? Amazing." Emmett grinned at his Spinbot. "Probably be useful if you could make more of yourself. Then _you_ could see what it's like when your creation flies off before it's finished. Spinbot's a surveillance clank I made," he explained for Agatha's benefit. "I also have a tool-fetching dog, aptly named Fetch. He's currently sitting in my pocket, deactivated."

Agatha's clank went over and looked up at Spinbot. Spinbot looked back, chirping. Agatha's clank responded with a few clicks.

Holly watched with interest. "It looks like they're talking, doesn't it?"

"I know, I – HEY!"

Spinbot had abruptly grabbed Agatha's clank and flown off with it. "Get back here!" she yelled. "I need him!"

"Spinbot! Bad clank!" Emmett yelled, getting up to chase them.

Spinbot flew back around, letting Agatha's clank dangle from its legs. The clank was making a noise that sounded suspiciously like "wheee!" Emmett paused, frowning. Then an amazed smile lit his face. "Wait – Agatha, I think they're _playing_."

"Really?" Agatha watched them for a moment. "Wow. I knew – Prime, I suppose, he was my first one of those – was advanced enough to be affectionate, but I never thought of him playing with other clanks. Much less one someone else had built." She turned to grin at Emmett. "So you really are a Spark too then, huh?"

"Recently Broken Through, yes," Emmett nodded. "Spinbot and Fetch were some of my first creations. They're a little rough around the edges still, not nearly as good as your little clank. . . ."

"Even so, Spinbot seems like quite the advanced project."

"I agree." Krosp appeared, frowning. "Agatha, are you sure it's safe to be talking to them like this?"

"Krosp, most of the evil people we've met have been very open about that fact. I think we're okay."

"I'm just suspicious of anyone a Jaeger sniffs, then goes off to talk about," Krosp said, tail swishing as he looked at Emmett.

"Let's hope it wasn't about lunch," Emmett muttered, observing Agatha's work.

"You can trust us, Krosp," Emily said, reaching out to scratch the cat behind the ears. "Do you think we're going to go looking for trouble after the time we've had?"

"Well, you – you – a little to the left, please?" Krosp sighed. "Maybe you're not so bad. . . ." Agatha laughed.

"Heck, we don't know if we're even staying with you guys yet," Marty said.

"I'd rather you did."

Emmett blinked and turned around. "What, Master Payne?"

Master Payne smiled at them, looking rather nervous for some reason. "I'd rather you stay," he said. "The other performers tell me that Holly and Marty have some good acts. And you look to be a fair mechanic – God knows we always need more of those on the road."

Holly frowned. "Is something wrong? You don't seem that enthusiastic."

Payne sighed. "To tell the truth, the Jaegers are rather – insistent – on having Emmett stay."

Emmett's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "The _Jaegers_?"

"Why?" Krosp asked, tail twitching again.

"They wouldn't say. When I pressed, they waved me off with 'he might be important, like Miss Agatha.'" He frowned at Agatha. "Do you know anything about that?"

Agatha had gone rather pale. "No. Haven't a clue," she said, staring at Emmett.

"Me either," Emmett said, stunned. "The – Jaegers – think I'm important?"

"I suppose that's actually a good thing," Clara said weakly. "If a Jaeger likes you, you're far less likely to be hurt by one, right?"

"I wouldn't count on that," Agatha warned. "For them, physical violence is a turn-on."

"Oh."

"At least we won't end up on the menu," Marty muttered.

Holly was the only one who seemed excited. "Oh, come on! Why shouldn't we stay? Do we really have anywhere else to go? I actually feel really comfortable here."

The others looked at each other. "Would you be willing to take us five on?" Emmett asked Payne.

"If you're willing to work," Payne replied. "We take on new recruits with surprising regularity. Though Agatha and Krosp are currently the only ones to stay for any length of time."

"Lars told me all about that," Agatha nodded.

Krosp grinned. "If they do join, can Agatha and I have another wagon?"

"Krosp! I've made some real improvements to the Baba Yaga!"

"Which is all well and good for you. But someone like myself needs a carriage with more class."

"The Baba Yaga?" Clara asked, puzzled.

Agatha pointed to a nearby wagon. Instead of regular wheels, the body was balanced on two mechanical chicken legs. "Oh, I see!"

"I don't know, Krosp – that looks like a pretty neat wagon to me," Holly said, grinning.

"It's undignified! And slow and bumpy to boot."

"Not as much as it was! I've adjusted the drive shaft, fixed the boiler, improved the balance in the legs–"

"Speaking of which, they could probably use their own self-lubrication system," Emmett said. "Walking produces a lot of friction."

"I've got plans for that too."

"Does it lay eggs?" Marty asked jokingly.

The wagon suddenly clucked a few times, knelt down – and out of a compartment at the bottom tumbled a huge, brightly colored egg. "About every five hours," Agatha said as Marty gaped. "We eat a lot of omelettes."

"I – I can imagine," Marty stammered.

"Are you staying or not?" Payne asked with awful patience. "Because if you're not, I'm going to have to ask you to tell the Jaegers personally."

The group shared another look. "I suppose we could stay for a little while, at least," Emily said. "After what happened in Passholdt, I bet there's safety in numbers."

"And I'm not going to be the one who make those Jaegers upset," Marty said firmly.

"Then I guess we're staying," Emmett said, turning back to Master Payne. "Thank you."

"Excellent. We'll have plenty for you to do around here. Holly, Marty, and Clara can try out for the shows–"

"Me?" Clara interrupted. "Why me?"

"Well, not many people have seen constructs around these parts."

Emmett's face darkened. "The sideshow?"

"It's fine," Clara said, heading him off with a look. "If I'm going to be stared at, I might as well be paid for it." She patted his arm. "I don't need you defending my honor at every 'insult.'"

Emmett's angry look turned into an embarrassed blush. "I'm sorry. I know you're capable of making your own decisions. I just–" he gave up and turned back to watching Agatha work.

Marty smirked at him before looking at Master Payne. "You're willing to let us in the show?"

"From what I've heard, you've got an excellent singing voice and quite a bit of skill with that guitar – and Balthazar seemed extremely impressed with whatever illusion you created, Holly. I'll have to see what you've got in person, but I think there's a good chance we can find a place for you on-stage. As for the Von Braun siblings, they can do behind the scenes work."

"Brown."

"Pardon?" Payne asked, looking annoyed that he had been interrupted yet again.

Emmett glared up at him. "I don't know about my sister, but _my_ last name is _Brown_. I want _nothing _to do with that lunatic. And it'll keep anyone else from getting nervous when they hear the name."

"I'm with him," Emily nodded, scowling. "Brown it is. And I'm quite happy with behind the scenes work, Master Payne."

"Good. Do you have any particular talents, Emily?"

"I can sew," Emily shrugged.

Payne grinned. "Oh, good. You can help with the costumes then. My wife will be happy for the assistance, I'm sure."

"I'll try to help on the mechanical side of things," Emmett said. "I'm fairly good with machinery."

"Fine. Although all of you will be expected to perform whatever tasks I or anyone else assigns you," Payne said, looking stern.

"Yes sir," Holly saluted.

"Good. I'll let the others know you're staying, then we'll find some work for you to do." He left, looking relieved. "And now I can get the Jaegers off my back. . . ."

Emily grabbed Emmett and pulled him aside. "Emmett, I just had a thought," she whispered. "What if – what if the Jaegers can somehow tell you're a Wulfenbach? Maybe that's why they're acting so strangely around you."

"I wondered about that too," Emmett confessed. "If they can, I hope they have the sense to keep their mouths shut. I think the _last_ thing any of us want is for these people to find out that I'm related to the Baron."

"Agatha probably would kill us," Emily nodded, wringing her hands. "And I thought things were going so well. . . ."

"After Passholdt?"

"Well, as well as can be expected. But if people found out we're related to Baron Wulfenbach. . . ."

"I know, Emily. We've all heard the stories about him. We're just going to have to do our best to keep it hushed up. We've done all right before." He looked back at Agatha. "And if they do find out – we're all fast runners. We should be able to escape before they kill us."

"Emmett, don't joke."

"Who's joking?" Emmett hugged Emily tightly. "We'll be okay. I promise."

"Is everything all right over there?" Agatha asked.

"Fine," Emmett said, coming back over. "Now what exactly are you doing to the Silverodeon?"


	8. Life on the Road

Chapter 8

Thursday, March 26th, 1895

Wastelands

4:23 P.M.

"Hey, Emmett!"

Emmett looked over to see Rivet standing by one of the wagons, looking annoyed. "Need a hand?"

"Yeah. This wheel's jammed up again. I need a little muscle."

Emmett set down the bucket of water he was carrying and went over. "These wagons are awfully temperamental, aren't they?" he commented, watching as Rivet oiled up the axle.

"You have no idea," the mechanic grumbled. "All right, push!"

They both pushed as hard as they could. The wheel resisted for a long moment, then suddenly moved forward with a soft "crack." Emmett looked concerned. "I hope something didn't break. . . ."

"Something probably did." Rivet wiggled under the wagon. "Yup, the axle's starting to go. I'm going to have to replace the entire thing, damn it."

"Would you like to borrow Fetch?"

"Yeah, I would," Rivet admitted. "You were right, he _is_ useful. Could be a little bigger, though."

Emmett smiled, pulling the little dog clank out of his pocket and winding it. "Well, I wasn't thinking of the size issue when I built him. In the meantime, you've got that ladder in your tool wagon."

"He still needs to be bigger. And faster. He's got some monstrously inefficient connections inside him right now."

"He _was_ my first completed clank," Emmett shrugged. "I've been too busy with other work to update him."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Rivet smiled at the now-activated puppy. "And he really isn't that bad for a first go."

"Emmett! Where's that water?"

"Coming!" Emmett set Fetch down by the wagon. "Do exactly what Rivet says, okay?" he said, grabbing his pail. Fetch barked and ran under the wagon to the mechanic. Emmett smiled and jogged over to the makeshift "stable." Augie and Krosp were already there, tending the horses. "Sorry, Rivet wanted me."

"I see." Augie took the water and poured it into the horse trough. The horses started drinking eagerly. "So, how do you like working for the circus so far?"

"It's – actually rather fun," Emmett admitted with a grin. "Hard work, yes, but I have plenty of time for personal projects."

"That's what we like about it too," Augie agreed with a small smile.

"I don't get all that much free time," Krosp griped.

"Come on, it doesn't take that long to muck this out."

"But it's so degrading! I should be out there commanding the masses! Or at least entertaining them." He looked desperately up at Augie. "Are you sure there's no room for a singing, dancing cat on your stage?"

"Positive."

"Cheer up, Krosp," Emmett said, patting the cat's head. "You've always got my sister to fawn over you."

Krosp grinned at that. "Your sister is a beautiful, wonderful person."

"And people ask me why I like dogs," Augie muttered.

Emmett smirked as Krosp gave Augie a look. "Do you need me for anything else?"

"Not at the moment."

"Then I'll be back to our wagon. Send a message with Spinbot if you need me – he's probably playing with Agatha's Prime again."

"Will do," Augie nodded. Emmett gave Krosp another pat on the head and headed back toward the Baba Yaga. The circus had indeed allowed to Agatha and Krosp to trade up once they'd joined, and now Emmett and his friends resided in the worst wagon. Emmett really didn't find it so bad, however – Agatha's improvements had fixed a lot of the worst problems, and he was working with her to fix even more.

Emmett smiled to himself as he approached the wagon. _It's funny how well Agatha and I get along – discounting that tool fight a couple of days ago. It's almost like I've discovered a long-lost sister. I hope Emily isn't feeling too jealous. _He looked around. _I wonder where Agatha is, actually. Probably practicing lines with Lars – bit late in the day for Zeetha to still be tormenting her._

As he climbed the outside steps, he heard voices inside the wagon. Opening the door revealed Marty and Clara – Marty practicing his guitar, Clara looking at a sheet of paper. "Hi Emmett," Marty greeted him. "Escape from your chores for the moment?"

"Yup," Emmett said, going over to the little desk-like surface he had set up for sketching out inventions. "So I thought I'd take a moment to tinker with my latest designs."

"How are those coming?" Clara asked.

"Quite well – well, my lightning generator is," Emmett qualified. "My ideas on time travel seem to have hit an impasse." Emmett rested his chin on his hands and frowned. "Something seems to be missing."

"Why are you so interested in time travel anyway?" Marty asked, setting aside his guitar for a moment and looking over at the drawings. "I mean, is it really as useful to us as that lightning generator?"

"Perhaps not at the moment. But it's always been a dream of mine to visit the past and the future. Wouldn't you like to know if Sparks have been around since the time of cavemen? Or to see what wonders will be produced by the year 1985?"

Marty frowned thoughtfully. "That would be pretty interesting."

"Maybe you'd even get a chance to save your mother, Emmett," Clara added.

Emmett winced. "I'd love to, but that could potentially create a major paradox – an event where the effect of an action cancels out the cause," he explained. "If my mother never dies, why should I go back and save her? But if I don't go back and save her, she'll die. But if I go back, she won't die, so I won't go back, so she will die – I'd basically put the entire space-time continuum on permanent repeat. And that's the _best_-case scenario."

"What's worst-case?" Marty asked.

"The space-time continuum collapses in on itself, resulting in the destruction of the entire universe."

"Oh." Marty sighed. "That's awful, that you can think up something like that, and you still can't save your mother."

"I know," Emmett agreed. "But I can't risk all the life in the universe for hers." He sighed. "Besides, it's doubtful my plans will ever come to fruition at this rate. I can't figure out how to channel the necessary energies through the time machine. I've tried all sorts of designs and equations, but none of them work out in the end."

Clara gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure you'll get it eventually. You're not a Spark for nothing."

Emmett smiled back. "Thank you." He set aside his papers for a moment and turned to fully face them. "So what are you two doing in here?"

"Practicing for the acts Master Payne assigned us," Marty said, returning to his guitar. "He's got me introducing and ending each Heterodyne play with a song. Some of them I haven't played in a while, like 'The Heterodyne Boys and the Cast-Iron Glacier.'"

"I'm trying to memorize my lines for the sideshow," Clara said. "I've always tried to hide my construct status in public before. It feels rather odd to play it up."

Emmett struggled with what to say. Everything he thought up sounded vaguely insulting. "What are your lines?" he finally asked for lack of anything better.

Clara threw out one hand theatrically. "Welcome, brave stranger, to the sideshow tent! I am one of the resurrected, a mockery of humanity sewn together from the dead flesh of others! And now – and now–" She picked up her paper again. "And now I am cursed to walk among you, sharing your pains but feeling none of your joys. Look upon me and despair, for this could be your fate!"

Emmett scowled. "Well, I'm sure that reinforces all the stereotypes."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think Master Payne likes it either. But apparently the crowds eat this up. The old girl, Olga, was a top draw in the construct role. She even came up with the speech."

Emmett sighed. "People can be such idiots. . . ." He looked around. "Where's Holly and Emily then?"

"They're with the Countess – Holly's being fitted for a costume," Marty explained. "She and the Countess got into a pretty heated argument over the colors earlier." He frowned. "Why doesn't Holly like to wear bright colors? I could understand if she was doing it in mourning for her mother, but you guys told me she's always worn black."

"I don't know. The best explanation I ever got from her was that bright colors 'just don't feel right.'" Emmett shrugged. "Sorry I can't give you anything more."

"It's all right, just wondering."

Emmett nodded, turning back to his equations. He scribbled for a moment, then scowled. "Damn it! Why can't I make sense of these?! I'm a Spark! I'm supposed to make groundbreaking leaps in science!"

"Don't beat yourself up, Emmett. I'm sure even Sparks have off days."

"Dr. Clayton had his moments," Clara agreed. "Once swore he was going to blow up his laboratory. He even had me lay the dynamite. Of course, by the afternoon, he was happily inventing again, and I had to clean it all up. . . ."

Emmett chuckled at that. "Well, I don't think I'd go _that_ far." He got up and headed back outside. "At least I've pinpointed one of the reasons I'm having trouble concentrating. I'm off to visit the latrines. I'll be back shortly – if I'm not collared by anyone."

It was a short walk over to the bathroom wagon, luckily. Emmett entered and chose a stall, impressed at how the circus had worked up a crude plumbing system so that it didn't stink like other outhouses. _I wonder if some of my fellow workers are Sparks. It would explain a few of the odd things I've seen and heard around here._ He smiled to himself as he did his business. _A circus full of secret Sparks. No wonder they're so popular._

He finished up and washed his hands. As he dried them on one of the provided rags, he heard voices outside the latrine. Familiar, heavily-accented voices. "Ve's gots to tok to her. Und him."

"Vhy him? He schmells – odd."

"Odd, but like de Mistress. Ve gots to figure out vhy."

"Vhy? Dey vas hooman, dat's vhy."

Emmett frowned. _Those are the Jaegers! But what the hell are they talking about? The Mistress? And – him? Who's him? Great Scott, are they talking about _me_?!_

Suddenly very curious, Emmett tried to get closer to the far wall so he could hear better. Unfortunately, most of that wall was taken up by the toilets. Frustrated, Emmett climbed onto one.

As he stepped though, his right foot didn't land securely on the edge of the seat. Emmett was abruptly thrown off-balance as it slipped off. He tried to correct and failed, somehow managing to spin himself around instead. He wobbled dangerously for a moment, then fell.

The last thing he saw was the sink basin rushing up to meet him.

Thursday, March 26th

4:49 P.M.

"Emmett? Emmett!"

Emmett groaned. His head _hurt_. It felt a bit like someone had driven an icepick through his skull. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the light. A host of concerned faces stared down at him. After a moment, Emmett was able to recognize Marty, Clara, Holly, Emily, and Lars. "Ouch," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. His hand came away red and sticky. "What happened?"

"That's what we were about to ask you," Holly said, helping him up. "Lars heard a crash in here, and we found you on the floor with a nasty cut on your forehead."

"You poor thing," Emily added, grabbing the rag and using it to wipe away the blood.

Emmett blushed, a little embarrassed. "I thought I heard – someone – talking outside the wagon," he explained, unsure if he wanted to reveal just yet that it was the Jaegers he'd heard. Especially if they _had_ been talking about him. "I tried to stand on the toilet to hear them better, but I ended up losing my balance. I must have hit my head on the sink."

"Ouch. You okay?" Marty asked.

"Except for the–"

Emmett stopped, eyes going wide. A rather interesting concept had just solidified in his head. . . . "That's it," he whispered, starting to smile. "That's the answer! And it's so simple!" He showed his way through his friends and ran for their wagon. "**I've got to write this down!**"

"Emmett! Why does he have to run everywhere when he Sparks?" Emily snapped, scowling.

They followed Emmett to find him at his table, frantically drawing something and scribbling down equations. "**Yes, this is it, this is the breakthrough I've been waiting for. Only a matter of finding the proper energy source now. Lightning would be best, I could use the lightning generator. . . . And where the hell are these red blotches coming from?**"

"If you haven't noticed, you're bleeding," Holly said sarcastically.

"**I am? I **– oh, right, I am." Emmett wiped his forehead with his sleeve, blushing. "Completely forgot about my injury. When the Spark calls. . . ."

"_Honestly_, Emmett," Emily sighed, cleaning the rest of the blood off. "I just don't understand you. What if you had seriously hurt yourself?"

"Then I doubt I would have been able to run away," Emmett said, fidgeting as Emily got a bit of clean cloth to serve as a bandage. "But – but it was _incredible_, Emily! It was like I was hit by lightning! I have it! I really and truly have it now!"

"That's great! What do you have?" Marty asked.

Emmett grabbed his drawing and proudly displayed it. "Behold the flux capacitor! This is the key, Marty! The key to time travel!"

Marty raised an eyebrow skeptically. "An upside-down Y is the key to time travel?"

"You have to look past the surface. This device is capable of harnessing the power of a lightning bolt and using it to propel something across time. **Past the very speed of light itself!**"

"Is that even possible?!" Emily gasped, looking at Clara for confirmation.

"I have no idea," Clara said. "It certainly sounds impossible. Wouldn't a person die at that speed?"

"**It all depends on how you create the conditions,**" Emmett explained. "**You see, the flux capacitor stores the energy of the lightning until the object that is to travel through time reaches a speed of 88 miles per hour. Then the flux capacitor releases the energy over the object in question. That combined with other factors creates a localized wormhole in the space-time continuum, which the object will have to pass through to travel to a point in the past or the future. During the trip through the wormhole, every atom inside the object will be moving fast enough to–**"

"Make my head explode," Marty finished, looking a little dazed.

"**I'm using mostly small words.**"

"Yeah, but it's a pretty complicated idea to wrap your head around."

"**You'll have to see it in action then,**" Emmett said, turning back to his notes. "**I just need to figure out how to keep the temperature fairly consistent. Right now, it appears the stresses of moving through the space-time continuum would initially raise the object's temperature to 72° C, then almost immediately drop it to -24° C.**"

"So if you want to see another time period, you'd end up flash-fried _and_ flash-frozen," Holly commented. "Well, I'm sure the prehistoric animals would appreciate the Fried People Pops we'd be sending them."

"Holly!"

"What? Emmett's going to fix it."

"**Of course I am,**" Emmett said, patting his sister's arm. "Trust me – the only two people I'd send back as Fried People Pops are Elias and Othar."

"And from what I've heard about him, Othar would find a way to survive," Clara added.

"Well, he'd be trapped back in prehistoric times at least." Emmett grinned as he did a few more calculations. "That fall gave me the best idea I've had in months!"

"And now we'll be hearing about it for months," Holly grinned.

"Oh, for much longer than that," Emmett replied. "I don't know how long it'll take me to get all this off the ground. There's a lot of complicated parts to manufacture – massive amounts of material to buy – plus there's still the issues of power and safety. . . ." He smiled, eyes shining. "I can't _wait_ to start!"

Clara chuckled. "Even my creator didn't get this much into his work. Or, if he did, I never saw it."

Emmett's smile lessened a bit. "I'm trying _not_ to act too insane. . . ."

"Oh, no, I like to watch you work. It's good to see someone so _happy_ being a scientist." Clara reached over and patted his wrist. "I never thought of it as fun until I saw you and Holly."

Emmett turned a bit pink as Marty and Holly smirked at each other. "I'm glad we were able to convince you otherwise."

Emily, however, still looked rather concerned. "Emmett, do you really think the circus will let you start building a _time machine_? It would be rather – _conspicuous_, wouldn't it?"

"I'm not going to build it all at once. I'll work on my plans and develop a power supply for now. Once we leave the circus, I'll start on the actual machine."

Emily finally smiled. "I keep forgetting you're the type to actually try and work things out beforehand. I'm sorry for second-guessing you so much. I'm still not quite used to you being a Spark."

"I don't think _anyone_ ever gets quite used to someone else being a Spark," Clara admitted. "Especially given the way they invent. Whenever Dr. Clayton showed off something to the villagers – and I'm not even talking about the monsters, just ordinary inventions – they'd panic like they were just realizing he was a Spark."

"I probably would have done the same thing," Emily confessed. "I love you, Emmett, but–"

"We grew up around Elias. I understand. Just – please, try to trust me. I would never hurt _any_ of you. I promise."

"That's more than Dr. Clayton ever promised," Clara nodded.

"We trust ya, Emmett," Marty said. "Now, explain to me again what happens with your flux capacitor?"

Friday, March 27th, 1895

Wastelands

6:22 P.M.

Emmett was helping Marty oil the legs of the Baba Yaga when they heard it. Emmett looked up, startled. "What – what is that?"

"Music – weird music," Marty said, listening. "I wonder who's making it?"

"Only one way to find out." Emmett and Marty finished oiling, then headed toward the ethereal sound. Marty frowned thoughtfully. "Weird. . .but pretty. And it's – familiar, too. Like I've heard it before. . . . Damn, what is it?"

Emmett suddenly smiled. "I bet I know what this is! Agatha's fixed the Silverodeon!"

Indeed she had. As the boys jogged forward, they saw Agatha seated at the completed instrument, her fingers dancing over the keys. Almost the entire circus had come to listen and watch her play. Emily, Holly, and Clara spotted the boys and came over. "Isn't it beautiful?" Emily sighed.

"She did a great job fixing that up," Marty said, impressed. "The resonance is incredible! And she's definitely got an ear for tuning. I can't get over the fact that it sounds familiar, though."

"It does," Holly nodded. She looked over at Clara. "Does it sound familiar to you?"

"Vaguely," Clara said. "Like I've heard it once or twice before." She smiled dreamily. "It is wonderful, though."

"Absolutely lovely," Emmett whispered, looking almost entranced.

Agatha finished the mystery song with a flourish. The circus immediately broke into applause, calling for an encore. Agatha turned to Master Payne with a satisfied grin. Master Payne grinned back. "Miss Clay, I'm – I'm _speechless_!"

Agatha's grin changed into a worried frown. "Is that _good_?"

"It's practically _unheard_ of," the Countess said with a smirk, earning herself a look from her husband.

Agatha smiled again and turned back to the Silverodeon. "Now, this is just a base refurbish. With more clockwork, I can add more instruments. **Maybe even some little singing automata.**" She looked into the distance, hands moving rapidly as she Sparked. "**And I was thinking maybe a kind of. . .a kind of **_**ball**_** covered in little **_**mirrors–**_"

"**No! What you should do is rig up a bunch of lights to flash faster than the human eye can accurately perceive!**" Emmett butted in.

"**No, I like the mirror ball!**"

"**Well, **_**I**_** like the flashy lights!**"

"_**Mirror ball!**_"

"_**Flashy lights!**_"

DING! DING! DING!

Agatha and Emmett both started, then turned toward one of the far wagons, looking puzzled. "What's that?" Agatha asked.

Rivet, standing nearby, suddenly looked a bit nervous. "Oh – ah–"

"It's coming from _Moxana's_ wagon," Krosp cut in.

"Moxana?" Marty repeated.

"Some sort of chess-playing clank they have," Krosp explained. "Abner tried to convince me she was just a puppet, but I called his bluff." Krosp folded his arms superiorly. "Never try to fool a cat."

Abner rolled his eyes, then frowned in the direction of the wagon. "It does sound like Moxana. We'd better see what she wants. Miss Clay, you'd better come along."

Agatha still looked puzzled, but nodded. "All right."

"Mind if we tag along?" Holly asked. "I'm curious to see this Moxana."

Master Payne frowned at them. The Countess touched his arm. "They may as well know – everyone else with the circus does."

"I don't know," Payne said, shaking his head. "They're still relatively new, and – well, you know what we were talking about earlier."

"Well, you don't have to say yes, but I'll guarantee you that I, at least, will eavesdrop," Holly said with a charming smile. "And I will tell my friends about what I've heard."

Payne stared at her. "I could kick you out for that, you know."

"Yeah, but we'll still know what's going on, and we'll at least have been fed for a while. Besides, I know you're happy with the work we're doing – you haven't kicked us out yet."

Master Payne scowled. "You have a lot of nerve. . . ."

Holly just kept smiling. "I might also remind you I'm the one who thinks one of the Jaegers is kind of cute."

Every girl in camp gave her a shocked look. Master Payne threw up his hands. "All right, but don't get in the way."

"We promise," Emily said, glaring at a very smug Holly. They tagged along behind Krosp, Agatha, Payne and Abner. "I'm sure Krosp told _you_ about her?" Abner asked Agatha as they opened the wagon's doors.

"Well – enough to make me curious," Agatha admitted. "What's going on?"

Emmett and his friends gathered around the doorway. Sitting amidst what looked to be massive amounts of junk was a beautiful clank. Elegantly designed and painted, it resembled a young woman sitting in a cart. "Amazing," Emmett said, almost starting to drool. "Why isn't she on display?"

"We've had problems with her in the past – she's usually not responsive to others," Master Payne admitted, peering over his glasses at the clank. Moxana, for her part, was ignoring them, focusing her attention on shuffling a pack of cards. "She must have heard the Silverodeon. . . . I think she's interested in _you_, Agatha."

"The chessboard's gone!" Krosp exclaimed.

"Moxana used to play _dozens_ of games," Master Payne explained. "Told fortunes too. I haven't seen her use the cards in _ages_."

"She does sound amazing," Holly said. "It's too bad you can't put her out."

"Heh – yes, back in the day, she was a real show-stopper."

All conversation ceased as Moxana chose a card and looked up. Now the group could see that she was using Tarot cards. "Hmm. The Device," Master Payne commented. "She uses that one for herself."

Moxana proceeded to rip the card to pieces. The group exchanged a few puzzled looks. What was she doing?

Suddenly, Moxana beckoned to Agatha. "Me?" Agatha blurted, surprised. Moxana nodded. After looking at the others, Agatha cautiously held out her arm.

Moxana grabbed Agatha's wrist and dropped the card pieces into her palm. She then closed Agatha's hand tightly and released her. Agatha pulled her hand back and looked at her palm. Surprised blossomed on her face – only to be replaced with understanding. She flicked the card, whole once more, into her fingers. "You're broken," she whispered. "And – you want me to repair you."

"She doesn't seem broken to me," Marty confessed. "Board games, fortune telling, magic tricks. . . ."

"She's undeniably delicate," Emmett argued. "And Master Payne just told us that she's usually non-responsive. It's not outside the realm of possibility that something has malfunctioned inside of her."

"I'll have a look and see." Agatha pushed through them. "Excuse me – I just want to get some tools and a friend."

Emmett moved closer to the clank, studying her. "Incredible craftsmanship," he commented as Moxana looked at him. "The way she responds is almost human. Someone who really knew what he was doing built her." He frowned. "Though I am curious as to why he didn't give her a mouth."

"Perhaps he didn't want something that could talk back," Clara said with a shrug. "Dr. Clayton made a few of those type of constructs."

"Ewww," Emily said, shuddering.

Agatha returned with a few tools and her little clank Prime. "Okay then, let's get started," she grinned. "Light, please."

There was a click from somewhere inside Prime, and bright light shone out from his eye. Emmett grinned. "Those little things never fail to amaze me."

"He surprises even me sometimes," Agatha said, opening up the front of Moxana's cart. She climbed in to take a look, starting to hum to herself.

Marty blinked. "Hey – she sounds like the Silverodeon!" he whispered to his friends. "Maybe that's where I heard the music before?"

"Could be," Emmett agreed as the girls shrugged.

Suddenly, Agatha went silent. She yanked her head out and stared up at Master Payne. "Did – did you know she's a _Van Rijn_?!"

"I did," Master Payne admitted, raising an eyebrow. "I'm impressed that you do."

"Van who?" Marty asked, confused.

"Wasn't he a painter?" Emily added with a frown.

"_And_ a master clank-builder. Under the employ of the Storm King himself," Agatha explained. "My old Master used to talk about him and his creations endlessly." She sighed, looking at Moxana with an almost dreamy expression. "_Beautiful_. You'd never know she was over 200 years old."

Emmett's eyes bugged out of his head. "Two – Great Scott. That man really was a genius."

Agatha nodded. "There are _still_ some things we just can't duplicate." She remained in her dreamy haze for a moment, then turned to Master Payne with a puzzled frown. "Actually, I'm not sure how much I can do for her. I couldn't see anything obviously wrong."

Master Payne took off his glasses, pondering that. "Of course," he finally said. "It's Tinka."

"Who?"

"We had another clank like Moxana. A dancer. Her name was Tinka."

"Really? How many of these clanks were made?" Emmett asked, very curious. "I mean, they obviously took more time than any ordinary clank."

"Well, Moxana was part of a set of nine–"

"The _muses_?!" Agatha interrupted with a gasp. "Moxana is one of the Storm King's _muses_?!"

"Muses," Marty muttered to himself.

"Correct. Now–"

"But they were lost!"

"They lost themselves. Now–"

"But–"

Krosp dropped a barrel onto the still-babbling Agatha's head. "Go on. _I'm_ listening."

"Thank you. Now, most of them have been dismantled. They were _famous_. Created by the greatest Spark of all time, for the greatest king of all time. _Everyone_ wanted to study them. But Van Rijn's work is so delicate, that even a Master was more likely to destroy it than learn anything." Emmett winced at that. "So the remaining muses escaped into hiding."

"But – as part of a _traveling show_?" Agatha asked incredulously, having freed herself and stuffed Krosp into the barrel as Master Payne talked.

"Before the Heterodynes, fake 'muses' were common enough in shows like mine. They never would have been noticed. They survived this way for over 100 years, doing what they were designed to do. Instructing. Inspiring."

"People like me," Marty said, causing everyone to look at him. "I don't know if she was the real deal or not, but I saw a muse in a carnival when I was younger. Elana, Muse of Music. I was so impressed by the way she played her instruments, I decided to take up one of my own." Looking at Moxana, he added, "I'm sorry, but I don't know what happened to her."

Moxana, who had been staring rather intently at Marty, fell back. Emmett felt bad for the clank – did it miss being part of a set? "How did you get Moxana and Tinka? And where's Tinka now?"

"Travel has its own dangers. I found Moxana and Tinka in an abandoned wagon years ago. They agreed to join my show. As for where Tinka is now–" Master Payne sighed. "Three years ago, we were on our way through Sturmhalten, which sits right inside Balan's Gap. Big town. Lots of loose cash. The local ruler is Prince Aaronev VI. He used to be a major player as a Spark, but when Baron Wulfenbach rolled through, he submitted quietly. He's been a good little vassal ever since."

Abner frowned at Clara. "Did your creator know of him?"

"I believe he did – he made mention of exchanging letters with an Aaronev. Why?"

"I'm just wondering if he knows what happened in Passholdt then. We don't want to run into any other problems."

Master Payne winced. "Damn. I hope my plan works. I don't want any more trouble from that man." He looked at Moxana, then back at Emmett and Agatha. "He's the one who took Tinka. Being the Prince, he still has the power to seize – _anything_, really. There was – _nothing_ we could do."

"But why didn't they take Moxana as well?" Emily asked.

"She wasn't in the show. There had been snow, so she'd been left in her wagon. She was devastated when she learned Tinka was gone."

Everyone looked at the clank. Moxana was slumped forward, staring at the front of her cart. Emmett got the curious feeling that, if it were at all possible, she would have started to cry. _Poor girl. She must miss her sister so much. . . ._

Agatha noticed it too. "She seems almost human that way."

Master Payne nodded. "The muses were renowned as beautiful, miraculous machines – but few would believe that they were truly aware." He shrugged. "And maybe they're not. It would certainly be easier to create machines that merely simulate emotion. However – in the years that Tinka has been gone, Moxana has become less and less responsive. Usually she stays absorbed in her own private game. Recently, she has shut down for days at a time, sometimes as long as a _week_. Even if her grief is artificial, it is _destroying_ her." He gave the group a very serious look. "This is why we're crossing the mountains this early in the year. If I can get her to Tarsus Beetle at Transylvania Polygnostic – well, no one knows more about the muses than _he_ does. He's not someone I actually _trust_, but I've run out of ideas."

"Dr. Beetle is dead," Agatha said bluntly.

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, but it's true. I was his student before I was on Castle Wulfenbach. He can't help you."

"Damn!" Master Payne glared at the wall, muttering unkind things under his breath. Then something seemed to occur to him. "_Damn_," he repeated, turning back to Agatha. "But you were his student? Good. Let's hope he taught you _well_." Payne took a deep breath. "I think. . .maybe. . .what Moxana wants – is a _new_ sister."

Agatha gaped at him briefly, then threw her hands up in disbelief. "_What_?! That's ridiculous! How could I possibly hope to duplicate the work of one of history's greatest Sparks?! Work which _no one else_ has been able to equal in the past _200_ years?!"

"I'd help you."

All eyes turned to Emmett in surprise. The teenager shrugged and blushed. "Well, I would. A chance to work on a project of that magnitude? How could I pass it up?"

Agatha frowned. "I do appreciate the offer. But even with your help, how could we pull it off?"

Moxana opened up her cart again. "I really have no idea," Master Payne admitted as she pulled out a thick, well-used book. "But for a start – you'd have Van Rijn's notes."

Emmett and Agatha both goggled. "Van – Rijn's – notes," Agatha repeated weakly.

"I'm helping," Emmett said. "Hell or high water, I'm _helping_, Agatha."

Agatha weakly took the book and opened it. Pages and pages of complicated equations, theorems, charts, and sketches stared back at her. A wide, manic smile split her face. "Oh, this is going to be _fun_."

"I know," Emmett agreed, looking over her shoulder. "None of you ever tried anything from this?" he added, glancing suspiciously at Payne and Abner.

"She wouldn't let any of us have it. It's too complicated for most of us anyway," Payne said. "Though Augie's wife Wanda was intrigued by it. She has an interest in mechanical limbs."

"We know," Clara said, rolling her eyes. "She asked me yesterday if I'd like steam-powered feet."

"She asks that of everyone, eventually," Abner told her with a small grin. "It's something like a rite of passage."

Agatha and Emmett continued to leaf through the book, practically drooling by this point. "I can hardly **wait to try some of this out,**" Agatha said, almost hungrily.

"**Did you see his efficiency equations? Astounding!**" Emmett beamed at Moxana. "**Thank you!**"

"**Yes, thank you so much!**" Agatha said, unable to take her eyes off the book. "**Come on, Emmett, let's go back to my wagon and start reading through this properly!**"

"**Right! We'll see you all later!**" He and Agatha left, Emmett contentedly humming to himself.

"Why do I get the feeling we've just unleashed a monster?" Abner commented.

"We'll make sure the male half doesn't get too out of control," Holly promised.

"It's become my life's mission to make sure that he eats and sleeps," Emily joked.

Marty nodded, grabbing his friends and pulling them out of the wagon. "We'll take good care of him. Thanks again for having us along." He shut the door before Payne or Abner could ask questions.

Emily frowned. "Something wrong, Marty?"

"I just realized where I heard the Silverodeon music from."

"You said before – from Agatha," Clara said.

"No. Not Agatha. _Emmett_. Didn't you just hear him? He hums in the exact same way she does! The same exact tune, just in a lower key."

Holly blinked. "But – he's hummed like that since before we met her. How could they be exactly the same?"

"I dunno. But I bet it has something to do with the Jaegers' interest in him." He looked afer the rapidly-disappearing figure of his friend. "I think we'd better talk to him soon. And Agatha too."

Friday, March 27th

11:57 P.M.

Emmett waved goodbye to Agatha. "I'll be back tomorrow morning!"

"Sure you can't stay?" Agatha asked, barely looking up from the book. "There's still so much more to read!"

"I know, but I get the feeling Emily will kill me if I don't get at least a few hours' sleep."

"**Who needs sleep when you have a book written by the greatest Spark in all of history?!**"

"I'd tell her that, but she wouldn't understand. Best to leave now before I'm forcibly _dragged _away." He turned to go. "Enjoy your book."

"**Oh, I will!**"

Emmett chuckled as he exited the wagon. He and Agatha had spent a thrilling four hours going through Van Rijn's notes. The man had ideas about clanks that were simply _incredible_. They were still buzzing around in his head, telling him how to improve Spinbot and Fetch, how to better design that mechanical horse he wanted to build. . . . _We should do that as our test of the concepts! A horse may have just as complicated a __**physical structure as a human, but the mind certainly isn't as complex. It would be the perfect starter project for our take on Van Rijn. . .oh, I don't know **_**how**_** Emily expects me to sleep like this!**_

As he neared the Baba Yaga, though, he was distracted by an unusual sight. There appeared to be a human figure on the roof. Puzzled, Emmett climbed up to investigate.

The figure turned out to be Clara, gazing intently through a telescope. "Oh! Hello," she greeted him as he approached her. "I wasn't expecting you back tonight. Did Agatha kick you out?"

Emmett chuckled. "Believe it or not, I left of my own volition. It was getting hard to concentrate near the end. I kept expecting one of you to break in and drag me away." Clara giggled. "Doing some stargazing?"

Clara nodded. "I found a telescope in Dame Aedith's wagon and asked if I could use it. She said it was fine. I've been studying the moon." She moved over. "Want a look?"

"Sure." Emmett sat down and put his eye to the telescope. The moon loomed bright and large over him, surprisingly detailed. Clara began pointing out different features to him while he listened raptly. It felt so good to be here with her, sharing this. _She's truly incredible._

". . . .And that crater over there, the one that looks like a starburst – that's Copernicus." Clara suddenly stopped. "Oh, I almost feel like I'm teaching school," she blushed.

"Well then, please continue the lesson," Emmett grinned. "You're very knowledgeable."

Clara smiled, blushing. "One of Dr. Clayton's human assistants insisted that we should do something to celebrate my 'birthday.' So he got me a telescope. Every night after I'd finished my chores, I'd go up and study the moon and the stars. I even made up all my own names for the moon's seas and craters and the constellations. Of course, later I found the appropriate books in Dr. Clayton's lab and learned they all had names already."

Emmett chuckled, delighted. "What did you call Copernicus?"

"Little Sunshine," Clara confessed, blushing harder.

Emmett looked at it again. "It does look like a little sun," he agreed. More cautiously, he added, "Do you think astronomy is something you liked – before?"

Clara caught on and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't remember anything before waking up on Dr. Clayton's operating table. And he didn't seem to interested in telling me either. The most I ever got from him was that I was made from two girls who had died of diphtheria earlier in the year." She smiled again. "It's never really bothered me that much. It would be very confusing to have someone else's memories. I'm content just being me."

"Yes, that makes sense," Emmett nodded. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Oh, not at all. I lived with a Spark for years – I'm used to these sort of questions."

They sat in a companionable silence for a while, gazing up at the stars. Then Clara turned to Emmett. "Do you think we'll ever be able to visit the moon? To travel up there like some people travel on airships?"

"I'm sure someone will figure it out," Emmett nodded. "Though probably not for a few years. And I doubt an airship would survive the journey. You'd need something more like one of those monks' trains – a sealed capsule, sent aloft with rockets, devices that create giant explosions, explosions so powerful that–"

"– that they were break the pull of the Earth's gravity," Clara interrupted, "and send the projectile into outer space."

Emmett blinked at her, startled. Clara laughed. "Emmett, I read that book too! You're quoting From The Earth To The Moon by Jules Verne!"

Emmett's eyes lit up. "You've read Jules Verne?"

"I _adore_ Jules Verne," Clara whispered.

"Me too! 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, my absolute favorite! When I read that at age seven, I wanted to _meet_ Captain Nemo! I collected everything he wrote! Not enough people gave him a chance – he may not have been a Spark, but he certainly knew the mindset! I wouldn't be surprised if he helped inspire some real Sparks! I know a lot of my interest in science is thanks to him and his novels." The smile dropped off his face. "Elias's probably destroyed them all by now. He hated them." He sighed deeply. "Some days, I think he hated everything I ever did."

Clara put a comforting arm around him. "He can't have hated you all that much."

"You didn't know him. Trust me, he could have. I'm just lucky that I have such wonderful friends." He looked back at her. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Not even her scars could detract from it. "Even so, I've never met a woman who liked Jules Verne before."

Clara was looking at him rather strangely. "I – I never met a man quite like you before."

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. "Some – some people –" Emmett finally stammered, disbelieving what his senses were screaming at him.

Clara put a hand on his arm. "I don't care," she whispered. "I love you, Emmett Brown."

A huge grin blossomed on Emmett's face. "I love you, Clara Clayton."

And without a further thought, he leaned forward and kissed Clara full on the lips.


	9. On With The Show

Chapter 9

Saturday, March 28th, 1895

Wastelands

8:32 A.M.

"GOOD MORNING, WORLD!"

Emmett threw open the doors to Agatha's wagon, beaming. He knew he was a little late, but he didn't care – after the night he'd had, nothing in the _world_ could bother him! Clara loved him! Clara Clayton, the most beautiful construct in the world, _loved_ him! It was more than he'd ever hoped for. "Agatha, you wouldn't believe the night I–"

He stopped as the scene before him suddenly registered. Agatha was standing in the middle of the group of three circus Jaegers – and one of them was _hugging_ her. Rather tenderly, in fact. The entire group was staring at him, looking nervous. "Um, am I interrupting something?"

"Ah – um – Oggie, you can let go now," Agatha finally said, gently pushing the Jaeger away. "Emmett, it's – um – I was–"

"Oh, itz okeh, Miz Agatha," the purple one, Maxim, spoke up. "Ve vanted to tok to him too about dis."

"What? Why?"

"Talk to me about what?" Emmett asked, his joy being rapidly replaced with fear. The Jaegers had been personable so far, but he still remembered the conversation that had caused him to trip. "And _Miss_ Agatha?"

"You really shouldn't call me that in front of anyone," Agatha nodded, shooting the Jaegers glares. Emmett admired her courage. "What makes him so special?"

Dimo went over and closed the door, making Emmett even more uneasy. "Because," the green Jaeger said, "he iz ov de bloodline as vell."

Agatha's eyes grew huge behind her glasses. "What?" she squeaked. "He's a Heterodyne?!"

Emmett's jaw dropped. "How – how–" he finally stammered, shocked.

"Ve kin schmell it in hyu," Maxim said, grinning. "All de Heterodynes haff der own special schmell." The grin changed into a thoughtful frown. "Dough, vit hyu, it'z mixed vit someting else."

"De voice izn't quite right either," Dimo agreed.

"He schmells like – like–" Oggie began, waving one hand.

"Like the Baron?" Emmett asked quietly.

"Yah, him!"

"The Bar – YOU'RE A HETERODYNE-WULFENBACH?!"

Agatha nearly upset a chair in her shock. "How?! How can you be a Heterodyne-Wulfenbach?!" she demanded, pale. "Unless there was some crazy lab accident between my father and uncle and the Baron–"

"The Baron has – had a sister," Emmett said, cutting her off. If the Jaegers could literally smell out his history, there was no sense keeping the cat in the bag. "She had an affair with Barry Heterodyne shortly before he disappeared fighting the Other. Nine months later, I was born."

"My uncle Barry?"

"Told hyu he vas a by-blow," Maxim said to Dimo.

"I don't know of any other Barry Heterodynes." Emmett shook his head. "So you're my – my cousin?"

Agatha nodded. "Bill and Lucrezia's daughter. I only recently found out myself."

"Great Scott. This – This is incredible! What are the odds of us meeting like this?"

"I don't know. I – I was _sure_ I was the last. . . ." Agatha glared at the Jaegers, suddenly suspicious. "This isn't some sort of prank, is it?"

"Ve vouldn't joke about dis," Dimo assured her. "He's real."

Agatha looked back at Emmett. "But – Uncle Barry never mentioned your mother. I never overheard him say anything about a girl to my adoptive parents, at any rate."

"Maybe you just never recognized her name. Does 'Sarah' ring any bells?"

Agatha smiled slightly. "Well, in all the bedtime stories he told me, the main female character was almost always named Sarah." She sat down. "Amazing. I grow up with almost no family at all, and now I discover I've got two cousins running around."

"Two?"

"There's another boy on my mother's side – Theo DuMedd," Agatha explained. She frowned. "I hope he's all right. He did run into Othar. . . ."

Emmett winced. "That's never a good thing. How come Othar didn't kill you?"

"He tried when he found out I was a Spark, but I managed to toss him out of the airship we were on. Now that he's discovered I'm a Heterodyne, he wants me as his assistant again." She shook her head. "Hard for me to believe I ever thought of him as a hero."

"Same here." Emmett looked back at the Jaegers. "Thanks for not telling anyone about me. It's not the sort of thing you share with just anyone."

"Oh, ve know, ve know. Ve vere very surprised when Maxim sniffed hyu out."

"I can bet."

Dimo put an arm around Emmett. "Dis is goot, dough," he said cheerfully. "Now ve have _two_ heirs! Dat vay, if ve lose vun of hyu–"

"Instant backup," Agatha said, rather sardonically.

"Yeah!"

"Whoa, wait," Emmett said as the implications hit. "Heir? Me?"

"Hyu are ov de bloodline. Hyu are a Heterodyne."

"_Und_ a Wulfenbach," Oggie nodded. "Hyu are a pretty goot choice for us."

Emmett began to feel uncomfortable. "I'm not so sure about that," he confessed. "I can't exactly see myself leading you lot into battle."

"Neither can I," Agatha admitted.

The Jaegers laughed. "Vell den, ve teach hyu!"

Emmett shook his head, pulling away from Dimo. "I wouldn't _want_ to be the heir – er, no offense, Agatha," he hastily added.

"None taken," Agatha said. "Finding out I'm a Heterodyne has turned my world completely on its head. I've lost two sets of parents, my uncle, my mentor, my home. . . . And if anyone finds out about me, they're going to want to control me – or even kill me."

Emmett winced. "If people find out my bloodline, I think they'll decide to skip the 'control me' step. Like I told my sister when all this started, being a Heterodyne-Wulfenbach essentially means I've got a giant target painted on my back. Plus there's the matter of Elias and Othar. . . ."

The Jaegers looked confused. "Hyu don't vant to be a Heterodyne?" Oggie asked in disbelief.

"Well, am I really even one now?" Emmett countered. "I _was_ born out of wedlock."

"Pshaw, dat neffer matters," Dimo said dismissively. "As long as hyu haff de blood. De generals vould vant hyu over her."

"Do _you_ want me over Agatha?" Emmett asked.

The Jaegers looked at each other. "Ve know Miz Agatha better," Maxim finally admitted. "Ve swore an oath to her before."

"Und she knows how to fight," Oggie said. "Hyu seem more–"

"Pacifist?" Emmett supplied with a slight grin. "Yes, I admit my obsession with death rays does not quite match that of my cousin's." Agatha rolled her eyes.

"Miz Agatha vould be our choice for Lady Heterodyne," Dimo confirmed. "Bot hyu are not a bad choice either."

"Thanks. Nevertheless, I'm not sure I'm really all that good heir material – you know, I actually get a little squeamish around blood. Not much, but if a scene's very gory. . . ."

The Jaegers snickered. "Yeah, Miz Agatha is definitely better," Oggie said.

"I thought you'd say that. All I want by this point is to find a nice quiet lab to settle down in and invent to my heart's content." Emmett bowed to Agatha. "I respectfully defer to my cousin. I'll be your backup, just in case, but until then, I'd prefer to be just plain old Emmett Brown."

The Jaegers' amusement turned to disappointment. "Aw, no fighting?" Maxim pouted. "Ve _like_ a goot scuffle over de master's position."

"I was unfortunately raised never to hit a woman. Sorry."

Agatha chuckled, then frowned. "Wait a minute. How much do your friends know about your family history?"

"Everyone except Clara was present when my mother told us about Barry. So she's the only one who doesn't know – and even then, she's aware my family history is complicated. We just didn't get into details yet." He looked around at the Jaegers and Agatha. "Is it all right if I tell them the truth about you, Agatha?"

The Jaegers shrugged and looked at her. Agatha frowned deeper, looking more serious than he'd ever seen her. "I don't really know, Emmett. If the word ever got out, I'd be in extreme danger. You must know that."

"I do. But I would trust them with my life, Agatha. They've already taken tremendous risks for me. Holly and Emily stuck by me, even after Elias and Othar killed our parents. And Marty and Clara have both saved my life. I'm positive I can convince them to keep mum. Besides, we don't _have_ to search out my uncle. It was our original goal, but now – well, _I_ don't want to end up as his pawn either." He sighed. "I believe that all any of us really wants anymore is to settle down again. Live almost like we did in Hill Valley – except that I won't be blowing up everything all the time."

Agatha softened a bit. "I can understand that. I'd still prefer to keep it as quiet as possible, though. Avoid telling them unless you absolutely have to."

"All right, I will – Lady Heterodyne."

"Don't _you_ start."

Emmett smiled. "What amazes me is that you haven't been discovered before this point. Surely Dr. Beetle would have noticed something. The Heterodynes were famous for having strong Sparks." He smirked. "Don't tell me _you_ had a Spark inhibitor too."

Agatha's eyes went wide. "How – how–"

"Great Scott, I was only joking!" They stared at each other for a moment. "What was yours?"

"A locket Uncle Barry gave me. Thieves stole it and smashed it."

"Mine was a pocket watch my mother gave me – from my uncle Wulfenbach, though she didn't tell me that at the time. I did the smashing myself."

"I see." Agatha became thoughtful. "I wonder if the Baron used my uncle's design or came up with his own?"

"Damned if I know – and I'm not particularly interested in reconstructing it to find out." Emmett became curious. "So what really happened to you on Castle Wulfenbach?"

Saturday, March 28th

10:04 A.M.

"Vell, dat vent goot!"

The Jaegers smiled at each other, very pleased with themselves. Now they had _two_ Heterodynes – one a well-built girl with wonderful taste in weapons, the other a boy related to their current master. "It'z goot dey's getting along for now," Dimo said, looking back at the wagon. Emmett and Agatha were inside, still sharing stories. "Dough I kind ov miss seeing de heirs fight. Goot entertainment."

"Yah," Maxim nodded. "But dere vill be fighting later." He beamed. "Right now, ve have girls!"

Oggie snickered. "Hey, Dimo, how are tings vit de Countess?"

"Oh, she's all over me!" Dimo assured them. "Ve just gots to be careful of de hozband."

"Ah, yeah, de hozband–"

A black blur suddenly ran past them, giggling madly. As it passed by, a pale hand shot out and grabbed Maxim's hat. "Whee!" the blur cried, racing away into the maze of wagons.

The Jaegers stared after it for a moment, too stunned to do anything. Then Oggie looked at Maxim. "Hyu're haffing a hard time keeping dat today."

Maxim's expression turned murderous. "Get beck here!" he roared, chasing after the blur.

He followed the figure through the campsite, weaving between wagons and occasionally jumping over people. The performers, seeing his expression, wisely kept out of his way. _Dis vun vill pay,_ Maxim thought viciously, listening to the person laugh. _Dis vun vill _pay_! Nobody takes my hat!_

Finally, he cornered the figure by the Baba Yaga. To his surprise, it was none other than Emmett's friend Holly who had taken his hat. She posed with it, smirking. _Huh. I tought she vas schmoter den dat._ "Dat's my _hat_," he snarled, advancing on her.

"Yup," Holly agreed, looking shockingly collected. "A very nice hat too." She took it off briefly to examine it. "Could use a nice feather, though. Anyway, I suppose you want it back."

"Yes! Giff it now!" Maxim grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "Or hy'll–"

"Don't worry, you'll get it back – I just want you to do something for me first," Holly said, wincing a little at his manhandling.

"Vhat?" Maxim hissed, seriously thinking of taking her smirking little head off.

Holly suddenly grabbed his head. "This," she whispered.

And then she kissed him.

Maxim froze. Despite all his bragging, he had never actually been kissed by a girl. At least, not that he could remember anymore. _Vhat – vhat – vhat do hy do? Hy – hy can't kill her now! Dis iz – dis iz –_

_Dis iz nize. . . ._

Holly broke the kiss a few seconds later, smiling mischievously. "Catch you later, Max," she said, returning his hat to his head. She went inside, humming to herself. Maxim remained outside, still frozen with shock.

A minute later, the other Jaegers, Agatha, and Emmett caught up to him. "What's going on?" Agatha demanded. "We heard you yell something, and the next thing we know, you're gone!"

"Somebody stole his hat," Dimo explained.

"Oh boy – tell me you didn't chew them up too badly, Maxim."

"What is it with you lot and hats?" Emmett asked, shaking his head.

"Ve likes dem," Oggie said simply.

"She – she kissed me," Maxim finally got out.

"_Who _did _what_?" Agatha asked, startled.

"She kissed me. Miz Holly kissed me," Maxim repeated, a huge grin appearing on his face.

Dimo and Oggie stared. "Hyu're _lying_," Oggie accused.

"She – Holly!" Emmett called.

Holly poked her head out the door. "Yes?" she asked, grinning.

"Did you – did you just – did you just _kiss_ Maxim?"

"Yup," Holly nodded. "Think I bruised my lips a little on his teeth." Maxim grinned even wider at that.

Agatha goggled. "You – why?"

"He's handsome! Er, not that you two aren't," Holly quickly added, seeing the other two Jaegers. "Maxim's just more my type."

Maxim preened, smirking at his fellows. "Hy _told_ hyu hy vas de leading man type!"

"You kissed a Jaeger," Agatha said, stunned.

"You – are you _crazy_, is that your problem?!" Emmett demanded. "You're going around kissing Jaegers now?!"

"Just the one Jaeger," Holly protested. "And I lived through the experience, you may note."

"Only until Emily gets wind of this. She's going to have a _fit_!"

"And you're _soo_ much better at keeping her cool, calm, and collected," Holly retorted.

Emmett sighed and put a hand to his head. "I'm not going to get anywhere like this, am I? Never mind. Where are Emily and the others? We need to talk."

"I don't know. Probably doing chores. I just escaped from Master Payne myself."

Emmett looked at the Jaegers. "Would you mind rounding them up? This is important."

"Not at all! Ve hunt!" They took off, Maxim bragging about his kiss to Dimo and Oggie.

Holly looked on incredulously. "They listen to you now?"

Emmett nodded. "We had a chat recently. What your mother suspected was true."

Holly's eyes bugged out of her head. "So you really are–" Emmett nodded. "Whoa. I think I'll go help the Jaegers find everybody." She jogged off after them, shaking her head. "This is either very good or very bad. . . ."

"I'm leaning toward 'very bad' myself," Emmett muttered as he watched her go. "Especially in regards to Clara. . . ."

Agatha put a hand on his shoulder. "If she really does care for you, she'll forgive you."

"I certainly hope so."

"YOU KISSED A JAEGER?!"

Holly came streaking back into camp, a horrified Emily on her heels. "Are you _insane_?! These are _Jaegers_! Creatures of death and destruction! They go bump in the night! And you're _kissing_ them?!"

"He's cute!" Holly yelled back, trying to escape around the wagon. "And he's actually rather polite!"

"He's a Jaeger! If he politely kills you, it's still killing you!"

Emmett and Agatha barely held back their laughter. "Your sister does freak out a lot, doesn't she?" Agatha commented.

"It's all because she cares." Emmett caught his sister as they circled the wagon again. "Emily, calm down. We all know there's no point in arguing with her once she's set her mind to something."

"She kissed a Jaeger!" Emily yelled, staring at him in shock.

"We're also fully aware she's insane. But she survived with her face intact, so I say she came out on top."

"And Maxim seemed to _enjoy_ that kiss, you know," Holly added, looking a little hurt.

"Oh, hy sure did!"

The Jaegers returned, dragging along Marty and Clara. Maxim beamed at Holly. "Hyu iz a goot kisser."

"See? He liked it. I'm on his good side now," Holly said. "Calm down, Emily."

"What the hell is going on?" Marty demanded. "I'm just getting out of the bathroom when these two guys drag me away, insisting that we need to talk to you. And Maxim was bragging that Holly was all over him – was that true?!"

"One goddamned kiss," Holly muttered. "What's wrong with kissing constructs anyway?"

"They're not constructs, they're Jaegers!" Emily said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well, technically, they _are_ constructs," Emmett pointed out. A sly smile appeared on his face. "And I find I must agree with Holly – nothing wrong with kissing constructs."

Clara turned pink. "Well. . . . I was helping the cook prepare lunch – can we please just hear what's wrong?" She looked nervously at Oggie, who was leering at her. "I'm feeling a tad uncomfortable."

Emmett shot the Jaeger a death glare. "Eyes up, Ognian." Oggie looked back up, smirking. "Thanks for getting them for me. I suppose I'll talk to you all later."

"Yes – I've still got that Van Rijn book," Agatha grinned. Emmett grinned back. "Good luck with your friends." She and the Jaegers headed off.

"You're giving them _orders_ now? Okay, now I _really_ want an explanation," Marty asked, looking baffled.

"You'll get one. Come inside, everyone. I don't want the whole circus to hear."

They headed inside. Emmett indicated for everyone to take a seat. "All right. I've recently discovered something about my parentage, and I thought you all should know." He took a deep breath. "Everyone – what we suspected in Hill Valley is true. Elias Von Braun is not my father. Barry Heterodyne was."

Clara's jaw dropped. "You're – you're a Heterodyne?" she whispered, stunned.

"And a Wulfenbach," Emmett added.

"Het – Wulfen – _How_?" Clara demanded.

"My mother – you know how we told you she was the sister of a Spark before? Well, that Spark was Baron Wulfenbach. She had an affair with Barry Heterodyne shortly before he disappeared. Nine months later, I was born."

Clara stared at him for a long moment. "How long have you know about this?"

"Mother told us most of it," Emmett confessed. "The Jaegers confirmed my Heterodyne lineage earlier today." He took her hands in his. "I understand if you're angry at me, and I'm sorry we kept this from you before. But the issue of my parentage is – rather complicated."

"I should say! Heterodyne and Wulfenbach?" Clara shook her head. "I'm a little upset, yes, but I do understand why you'd want to keep _that_ quiet!" She gave him a stern look. "Have you been keeping any other secrets from me?"

"No. I swear on my Spark we told you everything else." Holly, Emily, and Marty nodded their agreement. "I'm sorry again. I don't want us to keep secrets."

Clara smiled slightly. "It's all right. I suppose I should be grateful you trusted me enough to tell me everything else."

Emmett released her hands and hugged her. "Well, from now on, you're privy to everything."

"I should hope so, after last night." Emmett blushed hard at that.

Marty frowned. "Does Agatha know about all this?" he asked. Emmett nodded. "_Why_? Did you tell her for some reason?"

"I had no choice – the Jaegers told her about me first," Emmett said. "We can trust her to keep the secret, though."

"Yes, otherwise the Jaegers would–"

Marty stopped, the wheels turning in his head. "Holy _shit_," he breathed. "_She's_ a Heterodyne too, isn't she?"

Emmett wasn't sure how to respond. On the one hand, Agatha hadn't been too keen on the idea of him telling his friends about her. On the other, he had expected them to figure it out eventually. "Er–"

"Come on, Emmett, the evidence is all there! The Jaegers think she's special too. And last night, when I noticed your humming–"

"My humming? What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"You and Agatha have the exact same Sparky hum. Yours is in a lower key, of course, but the music is identical. It must be a family trait."

Emmett thought for a moment. "Great Scott, you're right! That's what we must have heard at the Silverodeon."

"Good Lord, Agatha's family?" Emily squeaked.

"Yes," Emmett said. "She's my cousin – Bill and Lucrezia's daughter. I startled her and the Jaegers this morning when I came over for another session with the Van Rijn book."

"This is heavy," Marty said, shaking his head. "I wonder what the circus people would think if they knew they had _two_ real Heterodynes working for them?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to know," Emmett said firmly. "Agatha will have my head if she thinks I told you. She wants her identity kept under wraps as much as – well, _I_ do."

"I bet," Holly said. "Cripes. . . ."

"So now what?" Marty asked. "I mean, we can't tell anyone about any of this. . . ."

"I just wanted to let you all know," Emmett admitted. "You're my friends – I didn't want to keep things from you."

"Yeah. Now we know that if any weird shit happens, you'll be the cause," Holly grinned.

"Me? This from the girl who stole Maxim's hat and then kissed him."

"Don't remind me," Emily groaned.

"What's so wrong with Maxim?"

"I'm just worried he'll shred you eventually," Emily said, trembling. "Don't Jaegers live for violence?"

"These Jaegers have been very well-behaved, according to the rest of the circus."

"But–"

"Relax, Emily. He tries to shred me, I'll do unpleasant things to certain portions of his anatomy," Holly assured her friend.

"Couldn't you just order him not to hurt her?" Marty asked Emmett.

"I doubt he'd listen," Emmett said with a sigh. "Whatever control I have over them has its limits. Besides, I'm not interested in giving them orders."

"You sure? Seems like a damn useful thing to me."

"I meant more acting like a Heterodyne heir. Besides, Agatha was the one born in wedlock. She's the one they should follow."

"What do the Jaegers think of all this?" Clara asked.

"They prefer Agatha as well, thankfully. They've known her for longer, anyway. They did warn me that any other Jaegers we may meet – especially the generals – might want me. We talked for a while before I came over here – apparently, girls are rare in the Heterodyne lineage, and generally considered weaker than the boys."

Agatha, Clara, and Holly looked outraged. "Sexist bastards," Holly grumbled.

"Heh – well, our Jaegers don't think like them," Emmett assured them. "They adore Agatha. Her obsession with death rays suits them perfectly."

"I should think so. But what happens to you now, then? I mean, you _are_ a Heterodyne, bastard or no."

"I'm basically being used as back-up. If anything does happen to Agatha, I'm expected to come up and be the next heir. But until then, I just – I just want to be me. I just want a chance to live a – relatively – normal life."

"Bet that doesn't make you popular with the Jaegers."

"They consider me something of a pussy, yes."

"Pussy? You're the kid who discuses using poison gas on people pretty regularly, and you're obsessed with lightning and electricity as well. Whatever else you are, you're not a pussy," Marty argued.

Emmett chuckled. "Nice to hear _someone_ doesn't think so."

"So, does this mean we're staying with the circus for now?" Clara asked.

"Until past Balan's Gap," Emmett nodded. "Perhaps even to Mechanicsburg. I'd – I'd kind of like to visit my father's old home."

"What about our uncle?" Emily asked.

"I don't know if contacting him would be such a good idea anymore. If he discovers my real father is Barry, I'll probably be _forced_ into the role of heir. I don't want to be used like that."

"Are you sure?" Holly asked, frowning. "Your mother–"

"Would understand, I'm sure. Mother wouldn't have wanted me to seek out the Baron if it meant putting me in some kind of danger."

Holly nodded understandingly. "You're right. Well then – to Mechanicsburg."

Emmett smiled. "To Mechanicsburg."

Tuesday, March 31st, 1895

Balan's Gap

7:27 A.M.

Emmett sighed in relief as the wagon train started moving again. "Looks like Master Payne's plan worked," he said, setting the Baba Yaga back in motion.

"Good. I was kind of worried what would happen if it didn't," Marty admitted, sitting next to him.

"I'm sure Master Payne had a Plan B. But yes, I'm glad it worked too. Hopefully we'll be through Sturmhalten and back on the road in a day or two."

"Bit of a shame, though," Marty admitted. "It would have been nice to see the actual town."

"Far too dangerous under the current circumstances. Maybe someday in the future."

They traveled for a little while in peace, Emmett steering the wagon while Marty played guitar. Around midday, however, there was a sudden call to stop. Puzzled, Emmett brought the Baba Yaga to a halt. "What happened?" he called to Dame Aedith's wagon.

"I don't know!" Dame Aedith called back. "Looks like more of Prince Aaronev's men, though."

"Uh-oh."

"What is it?" Emily asked, poking her head out the window.

"I've got a nasty hunch Master Payne's plan didn't work quite as well as he thought it would," Emmett confessed. "Stay on the alert."

A few minutes later, Maxim appeared on the scene, looking quite put out. "What happened?" Emmett asked, getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Tings didn't vork out," Maxim snarled. "De prince iz sendink us avay, just like Meester Payne asked."

"Shit," Marty swore quietly. "Did he find out about Moxana?"

"Dunno, bot hyu guys gotta perform for him tonight."

"Wonderful," Emmett groaned. "Well, let's hope he really _does_ have a Plan B for all of this."

"Don't vorry. He's a schmot guy. He'll know vhat to do." Maxim smiled. "I chust vant to say gootbye to my sveetie."

Holly emerged from the wagon, looking worried. "You're not _really_ leaving, are you?"

"Und leaffe Miz Agatha und Meester Emmett here alone? Not to mention hyu," Maxim said, tousling her hair. Emmett privately marveled at how human he was acting. Having someone love him seemed to have tamed Maxim just a bit. "Ve's chust gonna make ourselves scarce for avhile."

Holly kissed him. "Well, be careful out there."

"Vhat's de fon in being careful?" Maxim retorted, playfully punching her arm.

Holly smirked and punched back. "Yeah, why the hell am I saying that to a Jaeger? Just come back in one piece."

"And be careful enough not to get caught," Emmett added quickly.

"Sure ting. Ve sees hyu all later." Giving Holly another punch, he left.

"He doesn't get _too_ rough with you, does he?" Emily asked as Holly got back on board. "I know he's a Jaeger, but still. . . ."

"He certainly doesn't go as hard as he would with Dimo and Oggie," Holly said, smiling reassuringly. "And he knows not to play too rough – the last time he tried to bite me, he got kicked where it counts. Not even a Jaeger could mistake _that_ message. I can take care of myself."

"You kicked a Jaeger where it counts and you survived? You _can_ take care of yourself," Marty said, impressed.

Holly grinned. "Well, it helped that he couldn't move for a few minutes. And I let him take a sucker-punch at me, just to relieve his feelings a bit."

Emily thunked her head against the window frame. "You're impossible."

Clara stuck her head out of the door. "So we're going to be putting on a show in Sturmhalten? That's not good."

"No, it isn't," Emmett said, scowling. "I guess we could hide Moxana, and pray they don't search the wagons. . . ." He looked at the Baba Yaga. "I think I'll make a few booby traps for this place, just in case."

"Good idea," Holly said. "I've got a **few notions. . . .**"

"I wonder what show we'll be doing," Marty said as the Sparks began brainstorming.

"Nothing too silly, I'm sure," Emily replied. "After all, we'll be performing for the rulers."

Clara snorted. "Oh, you'd be surprised. . . ."

The wagon train eventually restarted, changing course into Sturmhalten. Marty took over driving the Baba Yaga while Emmett and Holly hid their recent work and booby-trapped the wagon. By the time they were done, they were in Sturmhalten. Marty whistled as they found a place to stop and make camp. "Nice place."

Emily looked around. "Look at all the shops! No place we stopped before had this many shops!"

"Definitely a tourist town," Holly said. "Look at how many of them sell souvenirs."

Dame Aedith walked back to them. "Master Payne and some of the others went to see the royal theater," she said. "How's everything back here?"

"Fine so far," Clara said.

"Need your wagon booby-trapped?" Emmett asked.

"Thanks, but I took care of that years ago," Dame Aedith smiled. "Anyway, some of the others wanted me to pass along that the cook's come down with something. So dinner will probably be late."

"Gotcha," Marty nodded. "How are you doing?"

"Something feels – off – about this place," Dame Aedith admitted. "I suspect we have vampires."

"Of course," Holly said, trying to hide her sarcasm. "We're sure you can handle them."

Dame Aedith beamed. "Thanks. If you need any of my protections, just come to the wagon. I have to get my stake-gun ready." She walked off, humming to herself.

"I think she likes it when it looks like we're in mortal danger," Marty muttered.

"She's Mad. She's got a point, though," Holly said. "Something _does_ feel kind of off about this place. Not Passholdt-level off, but. . . ."

"Let's hope the royals only want _one_ performance, then," Marty said. "And – Emmett, you're humming again. What are you doing?"

"Redesigning the lightning generator I was working on," Emmett said, rearranging some wires. "I'm getting that off feeling too. I planned to build the lightning gun separately after I got the generator working properly, but now – Best to have a weapon capable of dealing with most any threat."

"A _lightning gun_?! Isn't that overreacting just a _tad_?!" Emily demanded.

"After Passholdt, _nothing_ is overreacting." Clara nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

After a while, Master Payne and his group returned to the wagons. "It's a nice theater," he announced to everyone, "but Aaronev is _extremely_ critical of a bad show – to the point of having installed a gun in the top box." There were a few uneasy looks. "I want everyone rehearsing their roles for the rest of the day. This show has to be perfect."

"What play are we doing?" someone asked.

"Socket Wench of Prague," Payne admitted. A ripple of giggles went through the crowd. "Yes, yes, I know, but it's a command performance. Now, I think we can keep the usual parts – Agatha as Lucrezia, Lars as Bill, Andre as Barry, Arthur as Klaus–"

"Arthur's sick," Dame Aedith spoke up. "The poor fool can't even manage one of his famous pies."

"What? Damn!" Master Payne glared off into the distance. "And we can't exactly cut Klaus's part – not unless I want to end up dodging bullets. . . ."

His eyes fell on Emmett and his friends, who were watching the proceedings from a short distance away. He stormed over and thrust a copy of the script into Emmett's hands. "Here. You're Klaus."

"What?" Emmett blurted, startled.

"You have a passing resemblance to the Baron. You'll do. It's not a big part, but it has some important lines."

"I'll help you rehearse," Abner said, smiling very strangely. "You and Agatha both. It's a very – different – play."

"Er – thanks."

Emily cocked her head as she read the script's cover. "Master Payne?" she said, waving a bit to get his attention. "There's a typo here. You forgot an 'r' on the cover."

Payne took another look. "No, I didn't."

"Socket Wrench?"

"_Wench._ Socket _Wench_."

Emily blinked, then frowned at Marty. "I said Socket Wench before," he said, shrugging.

"But – I heard Wrench! Why is it–"

Her eyes went wide. "Oh my God, this is a _dirty_ play!" she squeaked.

"Emily, it can't be that bad," Emmett said philosophically, flipping through the pages. "I mean, we are performing this for–"

He stopped dead. "What?" Holly asked, trying not to giggle.

"Grease – pit – fight – in – corsets," Emmett stammered, staring at the page.

Marty snorted. "Oh yeah. That's one of the best parts."

"Oh my _God_," Emily moaned.

"I _do_ get to introduce this one, right?" Marty asked, smirking.

"Yes, but I want you practicing the song this afternoon too. I don't want anyone getting hurt. The same with your act, Holly."

"Sure thing, Master Payne," Holly said, saluting.

"Here guys, let's go rehearse," Abner said, pulling Emmett and Agatha toward his wagon.

"If I die of shock, Clara gets my Jules Verne book," Emmett called back to his friends. "The rest of you may divide my possessions as you see fit."

"You'll be fine," Holly told him. More quietly, she added, "Though I wish Maxim was around to see this!"

Tuesday, March 31st

6:36 P.M.

"Why, Lucrezia! How good to see you, my lady."

"Lucrezia" giggled as she extended a hand. "Klaus! Is that a wrench in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"Klaus" winked. "Can it not be both?"

The audience laughed while "Bill" scowled at them from his position on the table. "Klaus, Lucrezia and I were in the middle of an experiment."

"Klaus" smirked. "So I see. Truth be told, Bill, I never pinned you down as one for biology."

"Oh, he's quite good at it," "Lucrezia" assured him. "He says it's not that different from mechanical work. He knows exactly how to put Tab A into Slot B."

"_Without_ Barry's assistance?"

The audience roared. "Bill" turned red. "Doubtless you've only conducted this sort of experiment with animals! Or maybe the Jaegermonsters!"

"Klaus" rolled his eyes. "You _are_ in a tetchy mood, aren't you?"

"He's just upset that my experiments always come out on top," "Lucrezia" smirked.

"Klaus" leered. "I certainly wouldn't mind one of your experiments coming on top of mine," he growled, pulling "Lucrezia" into a tight embrace.

"For science, of course?" "Lucrezia" replied mildly.

"Of course, of course for science!"

There was a sudden "bang!" from the other end of the stage. "There they are, the twisted fiends!" roared Professor Moonsock, leading the angry villagers. "What is the meaning of that twisted creation in our fields?"

"It's only a ambulatory rocket launcher!" "Lucrezia" protested. "It shoots rockets made of finest sausage! I thought you people might actually _like_ this one!"

"Those rockets are _not_ made out of sausage! Sausage never stands that straight! I know that from personal experience." Moonsock sighed deeply. "My husband has never been a good cook." She scowled at "Lucrezia." "But never mind! Those rockets, whatever they're made out of, have burned our homes and farms! Now we shall burn _yours_!"

"Klaus" turned white. "Well, Lucrezia, my dear, I'm sure you can handle this," he said, starting to edge offstage.

"Yeah, run, you coward!" someone in the audience called.

"But Klaus–!"

"I'm afraid my sausage isn't standing straight enough either! Good day to you, my lady!" He ran offstage to a mixture of laughter and jeers.

Marty was waiting for him, smirking. "Love 'em and leave 'em, eh, you rake?"

"Great Scott. . . ." Emmett wiped the sweat off his face. "I – I was doing that with my – my _cousin_. . . ."

"Relax, Emmett. You did great." Marty playfully punched him in the arm. "I guess you do have a dirty mind under that Spark!"

The teenager managed a weak smile. "The sausage jokes were kind of funny. . . ."

"I'm never going to be able to eat sausage again!"

Emily ran over to them, pale as a ghost. "Can you hear what they're saying out there? Can you?!"

"Emily, I was just out there. I can hear what they're saying quite well."

"It's – it's – 'is that a wrench in your pocket. . . ?'"

Emmett turned green. "No offense, but you're never allowed to say that to me ever again."

"You don't think any of this is funny?" Marty asked incredulously.

"I – I laugh, but then I'm horrified at myself for laughing," Emily admitted.

Marty shook his head. "Emily, we've got to loosen you up."

"I've been trying to do that for years," Holly said, popping her head out of the rafters. "She's a lost cause, Marty."

"What are you doing up there?" Emmett asked, frowning. "Shouldn't you be with the show outside?"

"I skipped out," Holly said. "To tell the truth, I'm hoping to find Maxim or his friends up here. This play would be a Jaeger's cup of tea."

"And you're wondering why I'm horrified," Emily said to Marty.

"You actually miss him, don't you?" Emmett asked Holly.

Holly sighed. "I know it seems strange, to miss a Jaeger, but – really, Maxim's a decent sort."

"He's a ferocious killing machine," Marty reminded her.

"But he's not _evil._ He was polite to us – as polite as a Jaeger gets. And he didn't kill any of us." Holly smirked. "And honestly, even with those fangs, he's a pretty damn good kisser."

"We do _not_ need to hear about your Jaeger love life," Emily said, making a face.

Emmett shook his head. "As long as you're happy. . . ." He looked over at Marty, who was peeking at the stage through a gap in the curtains. "What's going on out there?"

"Agatha and Moonsock are arguing – Agatha's getting madder and madder. Now she's going into full Sparky mode–"

"**KNEEL, YOU MISERABLE MINION!**"

The group jumped. "Whoa! She can really pack a punch when she wants to!"

"I know," Emmett agreed, amazed. "Anyone else almost obey?"

Emily nodded. "She's a good actress."

"She is a Spark," Marty said. "I wonder if you or Holly could pull that off, Emmett."

"Not like her," Holly said, dropping out of the rafters. "You'd have to be extremely angry to sound like her."

"I agree. I doubt either of us could dredge up the required rage, acting or no," Emmett said with a slight laugh. "How did the audience take it?"

Marty looked. "Holy shit! They're all kneeling!"

"What? No way!" Emmett looked past Marty. Sure enough, the entire audience was on its knees, staring at the stage almost fearfully. "Great Scott. I wonder if Agatha's noticed."

"Probably not – she's still going strong," Marty noted. Looking up at the top box, he added, "The royals noticed though! They're having some sort of argument up there."

"Oh no," Emmett muttered. "I certainly hope Agatha isn't in trouble."

"She can take care of herself – she got off Wulfenbach's airship in one piece, didn't she?" Holly said. "I'd be more concerned about the royals."

"What's going on now?"

Emmett's face lit up. "Clara!" He went over and hugged his beloved warmly. "I thought you were with the sideshow outside?"

"We've closed down – all the commoners are heading back home." Clara peeked out through the curtains. "How's the play? I hope I didn't miss your part."

"You did, thank God," Emmett admitted, rolling his eyes.

"Aww. I wanted to see you all done up as Klaus."

Emmett smirked and presented himself for inspection. "Behold, my lady! Klaus Wulfenbach, tyrannical ruler of the free world!"

Clara looked him up and down. Emmett was wearing a white shirt, green vest, and brown pants. "Must be casual day on the Castle," she needled him gently.

"Well, it _is_ a dirty play."

"Tell her about the sausages," Holly urged with a grin.

"Oh no, we've ruined enough appetites today!" Emily said. "And–"

A loud "BANG!" from the front of the theater cut Emily off. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen!" a horrifyingly familiar voice called.

The group stared at each other, a sick feeling in their stomachs. "Othar," Holly whispered. "Damn it. . . ."

"What are _you_ doing here?" Agatha's voice demanded from the other side of the curtain. "You told me you were going to leave me alone for three months!"

"I'm sorry, Agatha, but never fear! I'm not here to bother you," Othar replied. "We're here to erase another great evil from the world!"

"_We_?"

"Oh, that's right! I never got to introduce you to my other spunky sidekick! Agatha, may I introduce ELIAS VON BRAUN!"

"Why can't I kill the actors again, Othar?"

Emmett got a cold chill down his spine. "Great Scott, not him. . . ."

Clara peeked out through the curtain. Othar was standing in front of the stage, posturing as usual. Next to him was a brown-haired man with a thick beard, wearing a heavily-stained coat and carrying a shotgun. His brown eyes were shining with madness. "That's your father?" she asked, feeling a chill. "Or, at least, the man you thought was your father?"

Emmett looked as well. "That's him," he groaned. "Of all the rotten luck. . . ."

"Because they're _actors,_ Elias," Othar was saying, patting his sidekick on the shoulder. "They just _pretend_ to be horrible villains on stage. They're all very nice, ordinary people in real life. Plus, I get free popcorn from them. You'll offer my sidekick free popcorn as well, won't you?"

"Uh – okay," Moonsock said slowly.

"Things are starting to get boring," a voice called warningly.

"What, having two psychopaths burst into your personal theater isn't thrilling enough for you?" Holly muttered, voice dripping sarcasm.

"Aha! Just the man we've come to see! Your reign of evil is at an end, Prince Aaronev Sturmvoraus! No longer will you menace these innocent people!"

"Your lot deserve to be wiped off the face of the earth!" Elias agreed. There was the sound of running feet. "I'll blow your–"

There was another loud "BANG!" "I believe I've got the drop on both of you," Aaronev said, sounding mildly amused. "Tarvek, please alert the guards and tell them we have a situation."

"Hah! Guards cannot save you now, Sturmvoraus!" Othar cried. "Elias and I are the best at what we do!"

"I'm sure," Emily whispered, shuddering.

"That's right! I killed my own whore of a wife because she gave me a Spark for a child! Idiot bitch thought he needed protecting!"

Emmett stood stock still for a moment. Then a very ugly scowl appeared on his face. "Marty, I need you to help me get something," he hissed, eyes narrowing.

"Can do," Marty nodded, his hands balling into fists.

"Anything we can do to help?" Holly asked, she, Clara, and Emily all turning brilliant scarlet.

"Just make sure they stay in the theater," Emmett said, pulling Marty further backstage.

Tuesday, March 31st

6:56 P.M.

Out in the main theater, Elias Von Braun smirked at the faces gawking at him. He knew a few of them thought he was insane, but he didn't care. He and Othar – they were the only real sane people around. They knew what to do with Sparks! He glanced back at the stage. _If only Othar would let me shoot a few of those actors as well. Even if they aren't Sparks, they're glorifying the Madboys. That's almost as bad._

Othar came up beside him, looking mournful. "Yes, our lives have been cruelly marked by the evilness of people such as you, Aaronev," he said dramatically, turning in a small circle. "Those who meddle with the common people, never caring what they may think. Those who lie and scheme their way to power! Which is why it is our solemn mission to see that no one ever suffers like that again!" He marched out as close to the stage as he could get while still being out of the range of Aaronev's gun, arms spread wide. "And I'm wrong, may lightning strike me down!"

KRACK!

Elias saw what was coming just moments before it happened. He threw Othar to the ground as electricity arced over their heads. A few audience members screamed and ducked as the actors scrambled out of the way.

Then the curtains parted, and Emmett Brown appeared on stage, holding a large metallic gun covered in wires. He scowled at the two heroes. "**Hello, **_**Elias.**_"


	10. Chasing Down Answers

Chapter 10

Tuesday, March 31st, 1895

Sturmhalten

6:57 P.M.

There was a moment of silence. Then Marty appeared, looking stunned. "You know, I honestly thought that thing wouldn't work."

"**Told you so,**" Emmett smirked.

Elias snarled. "You two again? See, Othar, you should have let me at those actors! I could have hunted them down!"

Othar just grinned. "Elias, I'm sure the actors have no idea who this boy and his companion really are. Why would they have let them join up otherwise?" He got back to his feet, pulling out his ray gun. "So, Emmett Von Braun, we meet again! Rest assured, it will be for the last time!"

"**I certainly hope so,**" Emmett said, pulling a lever on the side of his gun. The wires glowed as it powered up again. "**And my last name is **_**Brown**_**.**"

"Let me shoot him, Othar!" Elias said, muscling past his fellow Spark-killer. "You rotten bastard! I should have known your filthy mother would have given me an equally filthy Spark!"

"**Don't you dare talk about Mother that way!**" Emmett snapped. "**You're not even a quarter of the person she was!**"

"Now this is theater," Aaronev's voice remarked.

"Why would I want to be anything like that bitch?" Elias cocked his shotgun. "Don't worry though, boy. You'll be seeing–"

KRACK! This time Elias wasn't quite able to dodge. He screamed as the miniature bolt of lightning passed mere centimeters from his arm, burning it pretty severely. At the same time, Marty yelled, "Agatha, here!" and tossed her the second large death ray they had found.

Agatha caught it easily. "Worried about trouble too?" she asked, nodding at Emmett's lightning gun.

"I think _everyone_ was – there was a bunch of stuff back there."

Othar fired his ray gun at Emmett, who was forced to duck. "If you stay still, it shouldn't hurt too much!"

"So start running boy!" Elias yelled, managing to fire a shot at Emmett's feet despite his injured arm. "I want to see you suffer!"

"Now, Elias, we should have mercy for those–"

"Yoo-hoo! Othar! Love the goggles!"

Othar froze for a moment. Then his face turned murderous. "YOU!" he roared, spinning to face Holly. She was standing near the left wing of the stage, smiling cruelly. "Do you know you nearly blinded me? Thanks to you, I was caught by the Baron!"

"Poor baby," Holly mocked. "And if you think that killing me is going to be as easy as killing my mother, you're dead wrong!" She made a few odd motions with her hands. "Because, unlike her, I don't waste diplomacy on idiots!"

Out of nowhere, a wind came up, nearly knocking Othar and Elias off their feet. They struggled to stay upright, leaning into the gale. Elias tried to fire at her. "You damned witch! I can't wait to hear you scream in Hell!"

"Oh, so you'll be joining me down there?"

Elias was briefly nonplussed. "Uh – no! No, of course not! I meant from Heaven, you vapid girl."

"Not what it sounded like," Holly shrugged as the wind finally died down. She started on another spell as Othar and Elias surged forward.

"Just die!" Elias snarled, raising his gun.

A hand suddenly closed on his shoulder. "Hyu leave my girlfriend alone."

"Max!" Holly cried happily.

Maxim beamed. "Heya sveetie!"

"Where's the rest of the dream team?" Marty asked, dodging a blast from Othar.

"Dey's around," Maxim said mysteriously. He gave Elias his best evil grin. "Hy chust had to tok to dis guy." He squeezed harder, his claws cutting into Elias's shoulder. "Not very schmot, is he?"

"Not at all," Emmett said, allowing himself a small smile.

"You're involved with Jaegermonsters?" Othar said. "I should have expected no less from menaces like yourselves!"

"You're the menace!" a voice rang out. Emmett turned to see Clara take the stage. "Everyone, do you know what's happened to your neighbor Passholdt? That monster poisoned the water supply and turned the people into mindless creatures who live only to eat! My friends and I just barely escaped them!"

"Lies!" Othar yelled, though Emmett noted he looked rather shifty. "This girl is just a simple construct! She knows not of what she speaks!"

"Yeah, you can't trust constructs! They're part of the same unholy curse as Sparks!" Elias agreed, pointing his gun at Maxim's head. Emmett couldn't help but admire his "father's" moxie.

"Really now?" Maxim said, his grin growing wider. He grabbed the gun from Elias and tossed it aside like it weighed nothing. "Hy kind ov like dat. Unholy curse." He leaned into Elias's face. "Vant a demonstration?"

Aaronev fired off his gun again. "Skip the editorializing if you would, please!"

"He can't believe this is part of the show," Marty whispered to Emmett incredulously.

"I think he's determined to make the best of things," Emmett whispered back. "He's pretty well protected by that gun."

Elias was shaking now, staring at Maxim's large teeth. "Othar? How – how do you kill these things?" he asked, too terrified to move.

Othar fired on Maxim, scoring a hit in the shoulder. "Just keep shooting until it stops moving!"

Maxim smirked, barely noticing the wound. "Heh. Stoopid hooman. VE HUNT!"

Dimo and Oggie dropped down from the ceiling, Oggie with his triple-bladed axe swinging. Othar dropped and rolled out of their way as the audience screamed and ran for the exit. Maxim yanked out his sword as Elias pulled away and readied his gun. "Oh, dis is gonna be fon!"

"Come on, everyone, let's get out of here while we can!" Emily yelled, poking her head out from behind the stage curtain.

Emmett loosed another bolt of lightning in Othar's direction. "You'll be all right up here, I'm sure?" he asked Agatha.

Agatha grinned. "I'll be fine," she said, firing her gun as well. "I've had enough experience with him."

"Then I leave you to him. Let's go!"

The five of them regrouped, dodging bullets and lasers, and ran backstage. "And so ends our circus career," Holly said. "Oh well. It was fun while it lasted."

"I just hope Master Payne allows us to grab our things," Emily said, wringing her hands.

"I'm sure we can convince him to let us do that much," Emmett reassured her.

Marty shuddered. "Maxim was pretty scary out there," he admitted to Holly. "You're sure he doesn't hurt you?"

"Yes, damn it!" Holly snapped. Then her expression turned worried. "But yeah, he was acting pretty wild. I've never seen him quite like that before."

"He _is_ a Jaeger," Emmett said. "If you're really going to make this a serious relationship, you're going to have to prepare for him to get mean at times."

"Let's hope it's always with the enemy then."

"Stop! In the name of Prince Aaronev!"

The group started and looked behind them. Coming up fast were two rather burly men in uniform, each wearing a Sturmvarous crest. "Guards!" Emily gasped.

"What do they want with us?" Clara asked, confused. "We were helping _fight_ Othar and Elias."

"I suspect they think we provoked them," Emmett admitted. "Which perhaps I did, a little. I – I just couldn't let that comment about Mother pass. . . ."

Marty patted his back. "I would have done the same thing, bud."

"Whatever they want us for, I don't think it's good," Holly admitted. "I'm all for splitting up and getting out of here."

"Good idea," Marty said. "Emmett and I will go to the right, you guys head to the left. We'll meet up again near camp."

"Got it." Clara kissed Emmett's cheek. "Be careful, you two."

"You too." They split up. The guards paused for a moment, watching the two groups, then went after Emmett and Marty. "Guess it's me they want," Emmett remarked, picking up the pace. "Well, at least we know the girls are safe now."

Marty nodded, then spotted a split coming up in the hall. "Right or left?"

"Right!" They turned, running up a stairwell. The guards, who were older and not quite as fit, began to lag behind a bit.

"We're losing them!" Marty cried.

"Yes, but we're not out of the woods yet! Come on!" They reached the top of the stairs and entered a new hallway. Ths one was much more richly furnished than the others, with carpet and paintings. "This must be the place where the royals get in," Emmett mused. "We'll have to find their entrance."

"Make it fast, they're gaining again," Marty said, looking behind them nervously.

Emmett spotted a curtained alcove. "We can duck into there for now." They jogged over and did their best to hide within the folds of the curtain. The guards ran on by them, too intent on looking forward. Emmett breathed a sigh of relief. "All right, now maybe we can–"

"Hey!"

Two pairs of hands reached through the curtain and grabbed them. A moment later, Emmett found himself looking into the scowling face of Prince Aaronev himself. _Oh. My "alcove" was actually the top box. Wonderful._

Aaronev glared at him. "Who let you up here, you ruffian?"

"No one. We were just running for our lives," Emmett said, debating the wisdom of using his lightning gun. The trigger and handhold were shielded from the current, but with Aaronev holding him. . . .

"Why'd you send your guards after us?" Marty added, struggling in the grip of a young man roughly their age. Emmett guessed him to be the "Tarvek" from before.

"Isn't it obvious? The last thing Othar Tryggvassen and Elias Von Braun need is to be provoked!" Aaronev shook Emmett, causing the gun to nearly drop from his hands. "Imbecile! We need that girl!"

"What girl?" Emmett asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Careful, Father," Tarvek warned, glancing nervously at the captives.

There was a sudden loud "RAHR" from the stage. Everyone looked to see Dimo sink his teeth into Othar's arm for a split-second, before being forcibly yanked off by Elias. "They must be having a blast," Marty muttered. "Come on, guys, take 'em out already!"

"I thought I sent those Jaegers on ahead," Aaronev said, frowning.

"Guess they didn't listen," Emmett shrugged. "They _are_ Jaegers. . . ."

Aaronev shook Emmett again. "I'll have you thrown in the dungeons for this!" he snarled, throwing the teen to the ground. "You and your friends! This was an excellent show, too!"

"Jesus, is that all you care about? Keeping yourself amused?" Marty snapped.

Aaronev turned on him. "I deserve it! And now – now that we may have found the girl–" His eyes lit up insanely as he rubbed his hands. "I may see _her_ again. . . ."

"Who's _her_?"

"Never you mind. The point is, I rule these lands, so I'm entitled to a good show!" He suddenly smirked at Marty. "But then I'm sure you know a lot about entertaining people."

"Well, I _am_ a musician," Marty said, confused.

"Not like that." Aaronev turned his smirk on Emmett. "I heard the silliest rumor about this circus this afternoon. Apparently, one of the performers was in love with a construct from the sideshow. Judging by your reaction when someone tried to shoot at the construct girl during your escape, am I correct in assuming the performer is you?"

Emmett sighed. "Yes." _Great, now I get to hear another diatribe about–_

"So, how does he squeal?"

Marty stopped struggling, shocked. "Father!" Tarvek cried. "Just because you're upset–"

"Come off it, boy! They were in one of the dirtiest Heterodyne plays ever written! It's not like I'm offending their ears!" He smirked again. "And really, who on earth could actually fall in love with a _construct_? It must be a cover for something." Aaronev grinned at the stunned Emmett. "I'm sure you two love each other's company. And being a musician, I'm sure he–"

"How dare you," Emmet whispered, feeling a white-hot rage growing in him.

"How dare I? Boy, you're the one who–"

"**HOW DARE YOU!**"

Emmett leapt to his feet and grabbed Aaronev's collar in a death grip, eyes alight with furious madness. "**YOU INSIGNIFICANT INSECT! HOW DARE YOU MAKE EVEN THE SMALLEST ASSUMPTION ABOUT MY LIFE?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM, YOU DISGUSTING WORM? I AM THE GREATEST SPARK EVER BORN! I AM THE PRODUCT OF TWO OF THE GREATEST LINES OF SPARKS OF ALL TIME JOINED INTO ONE! MY FATHER WAS BARRY HETERODYNE, MY MOTHER THE SISTER OF KLAUS WULFENBACH!**"

Aaronev goggled. "Impossible," he breathed.

"**YOU DARE DOUBT ME? I AM HETERODYNE-WULFENBACH! NOTHING IS BEYOND MY GRASP! **_**WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I COULDN'T RIP THIS PLACE DOWN AROUND YOUR EARS IF I SO CHOSE?!**_"

Marty stared, shaking. He had never _seen_ his friend this angry! His voice almost rivaled Agatha's for making him want to run and hide. Even Tarvek and Aaronev seemed intimidated. "I – I–" Aaronev stuttered.

"_**SILENCE!**_** IF YOU EVER DARE TO INSULT ME OR MY FRIENDS AGAIN, I WILL RIP APART THE VERY FOUNDATIONS OF YOUR PITIABLE CASTLE, AND THROW YOU–**"

BANG!

Emmett cried out as the bullet clipped his shoulder. Aaronev quickly regained control of the situation, throwing Emmett to the ground and putting a foot on his neck. "Guards!" he yelled, manning his gun as best he could so that Elias didn't get any more ideas. "Guards!"

Three guards rushed in. "Take this piece of filth and his friend to the castle, and throw them in the dungeons!" Aaronev scowled as they pulled Emmett off the floor. "Red fire! Babbling on about being a Heterodyne heir. . . ."

Emmett turned pale as he realized what he'd done. "Great Scott," he moaned.

"Yes, I shouldn't have been so stupid as to fall for it!" He fired on Elias and Othar. "To the dungeons!"

Emmett looked sadly at Marty as they were dragged away. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I shot my mouth off like that. I – I was just so angry. . . ."

Marty nodded weakly. "At least he didn't believe you," he said quietly. "Then we'd be in even deeper shit." He looked around. "I hope everyone else made it out okay."

"Me too. Because I have no idea how we're going to get out of this one."

Tuesday, March 31st, 1895

Sturmhalten

7:21 P.M.

_A Heterodyne-Wulfenbach?_

_No. He had to be lying. He had to be! Klaus, Bill, and Barry hated each other by the end! How could Barry –_

_And yet, my intuition won't shut up about it. His little fit up there reminded me too much of Barry. I don't know how he could be telling the truth, but he is. Which makes him extremely dangerous. But – he might be useful as a bargaining chip. . . ._

"Othar! Othar, can you believe it? He really _is_ my bastard son! He's not even mine! Oh, I knew I couldn't father something like that!"

"Yes, excellent news for you Elias. But according to him, he's the son of Barry Heterodyne. That makes him more dangerous than even we thought if that's true."

"Which means even more people will want to kill him! This is wonderful!"

_Heh. Elias's joy is infectious. It would be nice if someone else killed that waste of sperm for us. Though I'd prefer it to be me – or, hell, I'd settle for watching Elias. He overdoes things a little, but you can't fault his enthusiasm. And he doesn't have a bad body either. Wonder if _that's_ the real reason Sarah married him. . . ._

_Well, unfortunately, there's no time in my schedule to ogle Elias. Now that I know Wulfenbach has another relative running around, it's time to take action. Back to Castle Wulfenbach for me – I need to see if I can bargain with Klaus. I'm sure he'd be interested in a Heterodyne heir that's related to him. And it might allow me to continue my mission in peace for a bit. Klaus is a tricky bastard, though. I'll have to be careful. Or, at the very least, work out the best Plan B to kill him with. I so wanted him to be the last. . . . Oh well, life is what happens while you're making plans. _"Well, my boy, we must part ways again. Seeing this has convinced me that the Baron must die sooner rather than later."

_Oh, look at that grin. God, I love that man's smile. Curse this male body!_ "Yeah, I'd better be off too, before those Jaegers find us again. Still wish I could have popped off that girl on-stage."

_Ouch. I can't afford for Agatha to die just yet. I have plans for that girl. Can't share them with Elias, though – he's convinced I'm a vicious non-Spark, like him. The last thing I want is for him to turn on me like he turned on his wife. _"Better luck next time. I'll see you later."

"Good luck, Othar."

"Same to you!" _Elias pats me on the back, then heads out of town. I turn and head back into it, keeping an eye out for those Jaegers. Hmmm. . .I wonder if the royal castle has an airship I can "borrow. . . ."_

Tuesday, March 31st

7:25 P.M.

"Eyes down. Agree vaguely with everything. Commit to _nothing_."

The seamstress finished her work on the dress. "There. You're all sewn in. No need to make things easy if – he's less than a _gentleman_."

Master Payne nodded – then noticed three figures skulking around near the wagon. "Hey! Who's there?"

Holly, Clara, and Emily moved out into the light. "Just us, getting our things," Holly said. "We'll be out of your hair shortly."

"You look beautiful, Agatha," Emily smiled.

"Thanks," Agatha said, attempting to smile back. "I'm a little nervous, though."

"You can't come off any worse than Emmett and Marty," Clara pointed out.

Agatha winced. "Yes. . . ."

Lars nodded, taking Agatha's hand. "Here. This couldn't hurt," he said, sliding a gold ring onto Agatha's finger.

"A ring?"

"Tell him you're married." Lars suddenly smirked. "I use that one to keep me out of trouble in town – so bring it _back_."

Agatha smiled at it, impressed. "Oh, very clever! Lars, thank you!"

Holly reached out and shook Agatha's hand. "Well, good luck at the palace." She turned around. "And for the rest of you, goodbye. Thanks for letting us stay this long."

"Yes, well, our hospitality _ends_ when your friends start shooting up the royal theater," Payne scowled. "We're very lucky we weren't all arrested!"

"Didn't you hear Othar and Elias?" Emily cried, indignant. "They started it all!"

"Your brother still shouldn't have started firing. It's his own fault he and his friend are locked in the dungeons."

Holly held up a hand, silencing Emily and Clara. "We all know we're not going to get anywhere by arguing. Come on, we need to see if we can rescue our boys." Seeing Master Payne's look, she added, "We'll disavow any connection with you, don't worry."

"Hopefully the royal family will respond well to groveling," Clara muttered. "Good luck, Agatha."

"Thanks, you too. I'm sorry I wasn't able to score a direct hit on Elias before they fled."

Holly grinned. "Not a problem. I think Emmett wants to take him out personally anyway." They gave everyone a wave and headed for the edges of the camp.

Maxim met them there. "Aww, come by for a goodbye kiss?" Holly smiled.

"Gootbye nothing! Hy am comink vit hyu!"

The girls blinked. "I don't think claiming you're one of the Baron's Jaegers will work anymore," Clara said slowly. "In fact, they're liable to shoot you on sight, the way you and your friends behaved around Othar and Elias."

"Neffer mind about dat," Maxim said, waving a hand dismissively. "Ve need to get Emmett out of dere. He may not be the heir, bot he iz still a Heterodyne. Ve still haff some obligation toward him."

"I see – this is about your back-up issue," Holly said. "And with Agatha going up to the castle as well, you can keep an eye on both of them."

"Yeah, like dat," Maxim nodded.

Emily looked around. "So where are Dimo and Oggie?"

"Ve thot it vould be easier if only vun ov us vent vit hyu," Maxim explained. "Ve agreed hy should go because–" What appeared to be a faint blush colored his cheeks. "Vell, because ov Holly."

Holly smirked. "I see," she said teasingly. "So Dimo and Oggie are taking care of Agatha?"

"Yes, exactly." Maxim frowned. "Ve don't trust dese guys at all."

"Neither do we," Holly said, turning serious again. "Both Emmett and Agatha were tearing up that theater. So why does Emmett get a cell in the dungeons, while Agatha gets a dinner invitation?"

"Well, to be fair, Agatha didn't go ballistic on Prince Aaronev," Clara said.

"I still can't believe he would do that," Emily said, shaking her head. "It's just not like him!"

"Believe it – ve vas dere," Maxim reminded her. "He told Aaronev he'd rip de kestle right off de foundations. It vas _beautiful_."

"Guess he sounded just like one of the good old classic Heterodynes, huh?" Holly said.

"Actually, he sounded like Master Barry. Dat boy had a goot pair ov longs."

Holly laughed. "I'll take your word for it."

"De carriage is here!" Dimo's voice called from somewhere to their left.

The girls and Maxim looked at each other. "Think Agatha will mind if we hitch a ride with her? In secret, of course."

"Ov course not," Maxim grinned. "Let's go."

"Do you really think Aaronev will even see us?" Clara asked as they walked over. "We did quite a bit of damage ourselves to his precious theater."

"It's worth a shot," Holly shrugged. "We don't lose anything by being polite. If he refuses, we'll sneak in and do what we have to."

Emily hugged herself tightly. "Oh, I hope nothing's happened to them."

"Don't worry, Emily. I half-expect Emmett and Marty to have already escaped by the time we get to them."

Tuesday, March 31st

7:32 P.M.

"For a dungeon, it's pretty nice."

Emmett gave Marty an incredulous look from his position next to the door. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. The cell's pretty clean, it doesn't smell, we're not tied up, and we haven't seen one rat yet. When you compare it to some of the jails I've been in, this place almost looks like an inn."

"I – see." Emmett sighed deeply. "Marty, I'm really sorry about all this. I didn't even think that our hiding place could be the top box. And when Aaronev said those things, I – I was just so _furious_, I – well, you know. . . ."

Marty nodded, trying to smile. "It's okay, Emmett. I'd be pissed too."

"No, it's not okay. First off, I blabbed my true origins to an entire theater full of people. We're lucky most of them will think I was lying, but even still. . . . And two, I'm a scientist. I shouldn't let my emotions run away with me like that."

"Well, you're a Spark. Ranting comes as part of the package."

"Yes, but–" Emmett turned to fully face his friend. "I wouldn't do anything like that to you."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep. Sure you would. I shouldn't let myself get so freaked out by it."

"The realities of being best friends with a Spark finally hit you?"

Marty sighed. "I've just never seen you like that. Sparking, yeah, but not in full-on 'taking over the world' mode. It's scary, Emmett. Even Aaronev looked pretty freaked out for a moment there – and _he's_ a Spark!" Marty was silent for a moment. "It's not the fact that you're a Spark that's bugging me. It's that you're a Heterodyne-Wulfenbach."

Emmett lifted an eyebrow. "You've known about my heritage for a while. _Now_ you choose to be intimidated by it?"

"Yeah! It wasn't until you started ranting and raving that it hit me – you could make _good_ on those threats! If you weren't such a good guy–" Marty stopped, as if unsure how to continue.

Emmett, however, was starting to understand. "I could have wiped Hill Valley off the map when its citizens turned on me? I could have destroyed towns, killed people, all of that?"

Marty nodded slowly. "I don't want you to be like that, Emmett. I like you as the guy you are right now. The one who builds stuff like mechanical puppies and gets kinda squeamish at the sight of blood."

"One ill-timed rant doesn't change that, Marty."

"Oh yeah? What happens the next time you get that angry, and you're near some tools? You've already got a slight obsession with death rays."

"If that happens, you have my full permission to render me unconscious."

Now it was Marty's turn to lift an eyebrow. "Are you nuts? You'd just end up going after me."

"I don't know – from what I've seen, you have a pretty darn good right hook. And I wouldn't go after you. I made a vow to myself right after I Broke Through that I was never going to experiment on humans."

"Really?"

"Really." Emmett went over and sat down next to his friend. "Being the next Baron Wulfenbach or the next Heterodyne Boy doesn't interest me. I'd rather just have a private lab somewhere out in the country, where all of us could live without fear of mob attack. I don't want to turn into one of the bad guys either."

Marty began to smile a little. "I'm glad. Though, will you be able to help being like your dad? It's in your blood to try and save people. Remember Passholdt?"

"How could I forget? But being the heir, traveling constantly, never getting a moment of peace or privacy. . .well, I'm less interested in that than Agatha is, and she's barely keen on the idea of herself." He sighed. "We really lucked out with Dimo, Maxim, and Oggie. If another group of Jaegers had found me, I would have probably been forced to take up the role of Heterodyne heir. And then the Baron would have found me, and forced me to keep it up. . .and most likely, I would have never seen you or Holly or Emily or Clara ever again." He looked at his feet. "I'd go mad – properly mad – if I couldn't be with any of you. That's why you don't have to worry about me, Marty. You're one of the things keeping me sane."

"Big job," Marty said.

Emmett smiled at him. "You've been doing great so far. Trust me." He held out a hand. "Still friends?"

"Still friends," Marty said, shaking it. "And you promise I can stop you if you go too crazy?"

"Please do. If you had before, maybe we wouldn't be down here."

"I doubt that." Marty looked around the confines of the cell again. "But as long as we're down here, any ideas on getting us out?"

"Fifteen. Unfortunately, they all require a tool kit." Emmett looked around as well, scowling. "We don't even have a rock to pound on the door."

"Damn." There was a moment of silence. "Do you think the girls will try and get us out?" Marty asked finally. "We didn't hear anything about _them_ getting captured."

"Maybe. Holly in particular is pretty resourceful. I don't think she'd let us languish in here without at least trying to help."

Marty nodded. "Yeah. And since she's a Spark too–"

"Hey! Who goes there?" a guard suddenly cried outside, distracting them.

"Hyur vorst nightmare."

Emmett and Marty leapt to their feet. "Maxim!"

"It's one of those Jaegers! Quick, get your – AAHH!"

There was a loud thud, then the sound of gunshots. Marty and Emmett huddled by the door, listening intently. Next came a ferocious "RAR!" followed closely by a loud "BOOM!" Then, finally, footsteps. "Well, that was easier than I expected. Now, which cell do you think they're in?"

"Over here, Holly!" Emmett yelled through the door.

The footsteps jogged over. "Hello in there," Holly's voice said. "Seems odd quarters for a Heterodyne heir."

"Don't remind me," Emmett groaned.

"Everybody here?" Marty asked as Holly apparently fiddled with some keys.

"Yup, me, Emily, Clara, and Maxim," Holly confirmed. "They're acting as lookouts. Come on, where are – aha!"

There was the clink of metal against metal – then the distinct click of a lock opening. The boys moved back as Holly pushed open the door. "Don't loiter, guys," she warned. "I'm sure someone's going to come and investigate that explosion sooner or later."

"What exactly did you _do_?" Marty asked as they left the cell.

Holly grinned madly. "New mixture I perfected just a few days ago. I call it Flash-Bang Potion. Highly reactive with most anything. Near-guaranteed to blow something up."

"Interesting," Emmett said. "Hope you brought plenty."

"Just a couple of small vials, actually – I didn't want to bring more in case I accidentally bumped into something."

The boys winced. "Good point."

Emily, Clara, and Maxim were waiting for them near the entrance of the dungeon. Clara beat Emily in the race to hug Emmett. "Oh, Emmett, I'm so glad to see you're all right!"

"Same here," Emmett said, kissing her. "I hope you all escaped the theater."

"Yes, we got out without any problems," Emily confirmed, muscling Clara out of the way so that she could check up on her brother. "We waited for you until the circus left. They told us what happened. Did you _really_ threaten to destroy Aaronev's castle?"

"Yes," Emmett nodded, looking very embarrassed. "He insulted me, and – I kind of lost it."

"What on earth could he have said to provoke _that_ kind of a reaction?" Clara asked.

"He essentially said there was no way I could be in love with you, so I must be sleeping with Marty."

". . .Oh."

Holly scowled. "That asshole. Good thing he didn't say that to me about Maxim, I probably would have done something even worse."

Marty shook his head. "Sorry, Holly, I think Emmett's got the market on scary cornered."

"Ve'd better get moving," Maxim warned. "Ve don't vant to get caught."

"Right. Lead on."

They started walking along the corridors leading out of the large dungeon and into the main castle. "So, where do we go once we get out of here?" Emily asked.

"I don't know anymore," Emmett sighed. "I'm afraid to go to the Baron, and going to Castle Heterodyne would needlessly complicate our lives. Maxim, would you know of any places between Sturmhalten and Mechanicsburg we could hide out in for a while?"

Maxim scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Vell, dere's Zurton–"

He suddenly stopped, sniffing the air. "Ve've got guards coming," he said, lowering his voice.

"Uh-oh. And another fight will probably just bring more," Emmett whispered. "We'll have to avoid them."

"Here, let's go this way," Clara said, pointing down another passage. "They all lead into the castle – we can find our old route later."

The group jogged down the corridor, trying to make as little noise as possible. The new hallway terminated in a set of stairs leading up. Maxim went first, sniffing, while the others hung back. "Iz clear," the Jaeger finally called.

Emmett lead the rest up the stairs. "Where are we?"

"Near zome bathrooms," Maxim said, pointing out a pair of elegantly-tiled doors. "Ve need to find de kitchen."

"We snuck in through the servant's entrance," Holly elaborated. "We should be able to get out the same way – it's so busy there, they won't even notice us."

"Good. Any clue which direction we should go, though?"

"West, wasn't it?" Clara asked Holly.

"I think so. Max?"

"West, jah." They started walking, keeping a close eye out for guards or any other servants.

They'd made it down three hallways and past another flight of stairs before Maxim smelt out more people. A look around a nearby corner identified them as liverymen. Maxim looked ready and willing to savage them, but Emmett grabbed his arm. "_NO_. I don't care how good you are – if you fight them, we'll be caught." Maxim sulked. "We need to hide until they pass."

"Hey, we can – _whoa_. Okay, we have to check this out, hiding or not."

Curious, Emmett followed Marty into the room he had discovered. His eyes widened. The place looked like the palace chapel – but instead of the usual images of God and the saints, there were statues and pictures of a curvy woman clutching a baby. In the middle of the room was a huge chair, topped with a large glass ball filled with mysterious circuitry. Emmett frowned at it. "What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton is _that_ supposed to do?"

The rest of the group ducked inside. They, too, gawked at the chair and the strange decorations. "So," Emily finally said, "they're not only rude and crude, they're also cultists."

"Wonder what religion this lady represents?" Holly asked, studying one of the images more closely. "She looks fairly benign, at least. . . ." Her lips curled up into a mischievous smile. "Fertility cult, perhaps?"

"Holly!"

"Hey, she _is_ holding a baby. And the Prince _did_ order the dirtiest of all dirty plays."

"Even still!"

"Well, unfortunately, we don't have time to linger and find out," Emmett said. "Are we all clear, Maxim?"

"Yez," Maxim nodded. "Hy – vait a minute." He sniffed again, then smirked. "Oh – de loudmouth pansy iz comink."

"Othar? What the hell is _he_ doing here?" Marty demanded.

"A second attempt at killing Aaronev?" Clara suggested. "We interrupted his first try."

"Or maybe he was hoping to get Emmett while he was helpless in the dungeons," Holly said with a scowl. "If only Agatha had gotten off a killing shot. . . ."

Emmett nodded, looking disgusted. "And, unfortunately, killing him is contrary to our goal of escaping this place undetected. We'll simply have to disappoint him." They exited the mysterious chapel, lingering for a moment near the door to see if they could get a clue of Othar's intentions.

There was a crash of glass, then a thud as Othar apparently landed inside. "Aha! And now–"

There was a sudden moment of silence. Then Othar spoke again, sounding a little confused. "A Giester chapel?"

"Giester?" Emily squeaked. "As in Giesterdamen?"

"Shh!" Emmett said, listening with interest. _So, Aaronev's involved with Geisterdamen? And Othar knows what their chapels look like? Hmmmmm. . . ._

"Well, Lucy, you've certainly done well for yourself!"

The group blinked. Othar's voice had – changed. It still sounded like the pretentious blowhard they all knew and despised, but the tone was more – feminine. And who or what was Lucy?

"I'd forgotten Aaronev was one of your boy toys. He's certainly remained loyal to your memory, I see. Guess I have to put him at the bottom of the list now."

"Lucky Aaronev," Marty whispered. Everyone shushed him.

"I miss you, Lucy. I'm doing my best to finish what we started. It's hit more than a few snags, but, otherwise, things are going well. Even without the _shk-mah_."

"The what?" Emily said.

"Shh!" Emmett hissed.

"Guess you're not doing so well. I'd say I told you so, but look at me. Obviously, we both made pretty stupid plans." Othar sighed. "At least you're not being tormented by seeing cute boys everywhere."

Emmett's eyes bulged. He hadn't just heard that. He couldn't have.

"The latest was the worst. His name was Elias, and he had the dreamiest brown eyes. . .and the cutest little butt. . . ."

Emmett wasn't sure how he was managing to keep down his vomit. Having Othar praise his "father" in regular glowing terms was bad enough. But this! Looking around, he noticed that everyone else – even Maxim – looked similarly queasy. _Perhaps we'd better leave now. Listening to this one-sided conversation is just proving things we already knew. And I don't know how much longer I can take hearing Elias described in that manner._ He turned to go.

"Oh, God, that reminds me – there's another one of those damn Heterodyne brats running around!"

Emmett was back at the door in an instant. Othar had believed his little rant? _That_ was a problem!

"Apparently Barry had a roll in the hay with Klaus's sister. I didn't know Klaus had a sister, did you? Well, I suppose you did, considering your close relationship. And they had a bouncing baby boy. Poor Elias got the displeasure of raising him. Hmmm – I came here to kill Aaronev and steal one of his airships, but maybe now I should kill Emmett instead. The less of that damn family around, the better – at least, those who aren't related to us."

"Just try it, you – you – is he a bastard or a bitch? The voice thing threw me," Holly admitted.

Before Emmett could reply, Maxim's head snapped up. "De prince iz comink!"

"Shit! Let's move!" They ran back down the hall and bore left, eventually hiding in what appeared to be a music room. "Great Scott," Emmett panted. "That was too close."

"What on earth was going _on_ with Othar in that room?" Clara asked, sitting down on the piano bench.

"I don't know – maybe Othar suffers from multiple personality disorder," Emmett shrugged. "That probably makes him even more dangerous. Let's hope Aaronev catches him before he can do any more damage."

"You think 'Lucy' was someone real he knew or just a figment of his imagination?" Marty asked, admiring the piano.

"I'm not sure. He said she knew the Baron – intimately, no less. But the only relationship I know of the Baron having is with Lucrezia–"

He stopped, eyes widening. "Lucrezia – Lucy! Could he have been referring to Lucrezia Mongfish?"

"How?" Holly asked. "Isn't Othar a little young to have known Lucrezia personally?"

"Depends on how old Othar is. It's a possibility, anyway."

"But that would mean Lucrezia was involved with Aaronev as well as the Baron and Bill," Emily said, looking scandalized.

"Sounds like she was a busy girl," Holly smirked.

"Sounds like she was involved with the Giesterdamen too – in a different way, of course," Emmett added hastily as Holly and Maxim snorted. "I wonder if they were an experiment of hers?"

"You guys know about Geisterdamen too?" Marty asked.

"Traveling family who stopped in our town – apparently, one tried to abduct their daughter," Holly explained. "The story got the father free drinks for a week."

"Have you ever seen one in your travels?" Emily asked Marty. "The father told us they're horrible, pure-white women who ride on gigantic white spiders."

"No, I haven't," Marty said. "But that's what I've heard too. They're one of the regular scapegoats for everything that's wrong in the world. They blight crops, they steal kids – well, sounds like that one's true – they create revenants–"

Emmett went white. _"I'm doing my best to finish what we started," _echoed in his mind. Could it be – "Oh, oh _no–_"

"Emmett?" Clara asked, getting up and putting a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

The teen turned to her, brown eyes huge. "I – I think – I think Lucrezia Mongfish was the Other!"

"_What_?!"

"Emmett, that's impossible!" Emily protested. "The Other _kidnapped_ Lucrezia! That's why the Heterodyne Boys got involved in the war!"

"Emily, how easy do you think it would be for a skilled Spark to fake a kidnapping?" Emmett shot back. "Othar told this Lucy he was trying to finish what she started! And Othar's mission is to kill all Sparks, just like the Other!"

Holly frowned. "It's all circumstantial evidence, Emmett."

"Maybe, but it's still pretty suspicious. Great Scott, I never expected to stumble into a possible conspiracy. . . ."

"Hang on a second, Emmett," Marty said. "Othar said it was _their_ mission, not _hers_. He looks about 30 or so to me – I think that's just a little too young to have worked with the Other. Maybe he's just psychotic."

Emmett frowned, rubbing his chin. "You've got a point there. But something still stinks about the entire business. And I think it's related to the way his voice changed while he was addressing Lucy." He turned to Maxim. "You knew that lot – who would call Lucrezia 'Lucy?'"

"Bill deed zometimes," Maxim said. "Oh, und her zister deed too."

"Sister?"

"Yah, Belinda. She vas another scary vun. She didn't like anybody." Maxim rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "To tell de truth, Othar _deed_ zound a bit like her. . . ."

"How on earth could Belinda Mongfish turn into Othar Tryggvassen?" Emily demanded.

"I don't want to think about that too hard," Holly said, making a face.

"Emmett, do you seriously think one of the Mongfish sisters was the Other?" Marty asked skeptically. "You think we would have heard about it before now. Lucrezia, at least, was pretty famous."

"Yes, for being the villain's beautiful daughter. It's not a given she reformed when she married Bill – and we have no information on whether Belinda reformed at all. That little one-man show has me worried. At the very least, we've got evidence that both Othar and Aaronev are involved in something that appears to be related to the Other's activities. And I think–" he swallowed "– I think we have an obligation to tell the Baron about it."

There was a brief silence. "You want to seek out Castle Wulfenbach again?" Emily finally said. "But I thought we agreed–"

"My distaste for being forced into the public eye doesn't mean much if these two are furthering the Other's work," Emmet said firmly. "Maybe we can get away with not telling him our names. Now we just have to figure out how to get there."

"Othar mentioned they had at least one airship," Marty said. "Maybe we can hijack it before he does."

"'Borrow' it, you mean," Emmett said with a nasty grin. "We'd have to get up on the roof to see, though. How exactly do we do that without being caught?"

Marty shrugged and idly pressed a key on the piano. He frowned as no sound came out. "What the–"

There was a soft scraping nosie from the other side of the room. As the group watched, tensed to run if necessary, a panel of the far wall slid away, revealing a gigantic weapons locker. "Well, that's pretty clever," Clara admitted.

"My lightning gun!"

Emmett ran in and hugged the monstrous weapon to his chest. "Great Scott, I thought I was going to have start over from scratch! And my firesword's in here too!" Emmett clicked the switch, and a flame obligingly burst out the tip. "Still works, thank God. I was worried they'd drain the fuel."

Holly walked in and picked up a pistol. A smile spread across her face. "Perhaps we won't have such a hard time getting to the roof after all. . . ."

Tuesday, March 31st

8:14 P.M.

"Being held at gunpoint does wonders for someone's manners, doesn't it?"

"I know. Anyone following us, Maxim?"

"_Nein,_" Maxim replied, sniffing.

"How much farther to the roof? My feet are killing me," Emily complained.

"Not too far now – aha!"

Emmett stopped as the stairs ended at a small trapdoor. Putting a finger to his lips, he eased it open a crack and peeked out.

This section of the castle roof was a flat, featureless expanse of stone. Sitting not too far away were two little airships, each painted with the Sturmhalten crest. Emmett grinned. "Yes!"

Then Othar appeared from around one. "No!"

"What is it?" Marty asked, trying to see around him.

"Othar beat us up here," Emmett reported. "Damn, I was so hoping Aaronev would have captured him."

"Well, he's legendary for getting out of impossible situations. His luck must have kicked in again."

"Bloody annoying," Holly muttered. "Want us to go up firing? I still owe him for my mother."

Emmett sighed and shook his head. "Much as I'd love to, it was getting into a fight with him that got us into our current predicament. And if we hit the airships, our adventure's over before it begins. I think we should wait this one out."

Holly and Maxim both scowled. "Hyu're no fon," the Jaeger muttered, sitting on the steps.

"Look, you have my full permission to maul anyone who comes from the other direction." Emmett put his eye back to the crack, ignoring the suddenly gleeful expression on Maxim's face.

Othar hadn't noticed the trapdoor, too busy examining the smaller of the two airships. He stood still for a moment, regarding it thoughtfully. Then he nodded and leapt aboard. He disappeared inside for a few moments, then reappeared at one of the windows. He shot through the line tethering the ship to the roof and tossed the ballast. Moments later, the airship was airborne, puttering away.

Emmett waited for it to get a little distance away, then threw open the trapdoor and climbed out. "All clear!"

The group emerged onto the roof, heading straight for the remaining airship. "So, what's the plan?" Marty asked. "Head in a random direction and hope we run into the Castle?"

"Actually, I'd like to follow Othar and see where he's going," Emmett said. "If he's going to kill another Spark, maybe we can stop him. And if we run into Castle Wulfenbach along the way, so much the better."

Marty smirked at him. "'Not the adventuring type,' eh?"

"Shut it, McFly."

Holly noticed Maxim hanging back a bit, looking conflicted. "You know, if you want to stay behind to help Agatha, we won't mind," she told him. "I think we've got the situation under control."

"We'd appreciate your help, of course," Emmett added, examining the airship. "But I know your first loyalty is to the real heir."

Maxim looked at the airship, then at the trapdoor. He frowned, thinking hard. Then he turned back to the airship. "De Baron knows me a bit. Hy ken tell him to listen to hyu."

"Baron Wulfenbach knows you?" Emily repeated. "How?"

"Vell, hyu see, me, Oggie, and Dimo haff been friends for a vhile. . . ."

Clara looked at the envelope, then at the controls. "Um, Emmett, I think I've spotted a flaw in your plan."

"Oh?" Emmett said, testing the ropes.

"Yes. Do any of us know how to fly one of these things?"

"I'm sure I'll learn fast," Emmett said, smiling reassuringly. "How hard could it be?"

"He ate _WHAT_?!"


	11. Firefight On Castle Wulfenbach

Chapter 11

Saturday, April 4th, 1895

Castle Wulfenbach Airspace

5:24 A.M.

_Scraaakkk. . . ._

"Don't you dare! Don't you bloody dare!"

The voice cut through Marty's dreams, pulling him abruptly back into the real world. He yawned and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "I take it we're having problems again," he muttered, sitting up.

"It's this blasted engine!" Emmett ran back and forth, flicking switches. "What the hell is wrong with this thing?"

"Not as easy as you thought, huh?" Clara said, yawning. "I told you. . . ."

"Yes, yes, I know. Give me that we haven't crashed yet, at least."

"Emmett murdering the airship's engine again?" Holly asked, propping herself up on an elbow and smirking.

Emmett glowered at her. "Do I have to remind you of what nearly happened when _you_ tried to fly this thing?"

"No, no, that's all right," Holly said hastily, the smirk disappearing.

The noise finally stopped as Emmett adjusted the steering controls. The teenager sighed deeply. "If this thing makes one more weird noise. . . ."

"Well, hopefully Othar will pick a place to land soon," Marty said, opening one of the lockers in the cabin. "Biscuits, anyone?"

"Thanks," Holly said, grabbing one. "Max! Emily! Breakfast!"

Emily blinked open her eyes. "Oh, good," she yawned. "Another night without crashing."

Maxim plopped his hat back on as he got his share of breakfast. "Anyting interesting happen?"

"Nope. Just us and Othar and the open sky." Emmett looked over at the small figure of Othar's airship ahead of them. "I'd really like to know how well _he's_ managing. Being a crew of one must be terrible when you need to go to the bathroom."

"Serves him right," Holly said, ripping into her biscuit viciously. "After all he's done to us."

"Und Miz Agatha," Maxim added.

"And any other unfortunate Spark he's come across," Emmett agreed, starting on his food. "You know, his motives make a lot of sense if he's following the Other's philosophy."

"I dread the thought," Emily shuddered. "The first Other War was horrible enough."

"Well, if he really _is_ an agent of the Other, we'll stop him," Emmett said firmly. "I refuse to let him ruin anybody else's life."

There was a brief silence as they finished off their breakfast. Then Emily said, "I wonder how Agatha's doing back in Sturmhalten."

"I'm sure she's fine," Emmett replied, brushing the crumbs off his lap. "She's tough. And she has the circus and Dimo and Oggie to look out for her."

"Dey had better be," Maxim nodded, frowning. "But ya, Miz Agatha ken take care of herself."

"If the royal family tries anything, they'll probably find Sturmhalten in ruins," Holly agreed with a smirk. "Or worse."

"I don't know, Agatha might be–"

Emmett stopped as he spotted a shape in the cloud bank before them. "Hey! We're coming up on something!"

Everyone got to their feet to look. Sure enough, there was a large, dark thing hovering before them. "Mountains?" Emily asked, wringing her hands.

"Can't be, the shape's all wrong. It looks like a giant cylinder." Emmett traced the shape with his finger. "See?"

"Looks like another airship to me," Holly said, nodding. "A big one."

"Could that be Castle Wulfenbach?" Clara asked.

"Mebbe," Maxim said. "Looks abut the right size."

"Well, Othar's heading straight for it, so we'll see shortly," Emmett said. "Just need to lose these clouds first. . . ."

After a few minutes of fiddling with the controls, they were up and over the clouds. The crew's jaws dropped. Looming in front of them was the biggest airship any of them had ever seen. Glowing portholes and windows dotted the steel-gray surface, and the image of Castle Wulfenbach – a golden castle with wings – was displayed prominently on the side. Hundreds of smaller airships orbited it, all painted with the Wulfenbach logo. "Holy _shit_," Marty whispered. "This is _heavy_."

"I can't see the end!" Emily said, looking to the left. "At all!"

"The Baron's done well for himself," Holly said, looking awed. "Maxim, was it like this when you left?"

"Not zo many leettle airships," Maxim said, looking around. "But de Baron did haff de big vun."

"I wonder if it can land," Clara said, eyes wide.

"Even if it could, I doubt it does – you'd never get it in the air again," Emmett replied, marveling. "Great Scott!"

Marty spotted Othar's ship heading for what looked like some sort of dock. "I think Othar's planning on going inside."

"Really?" Emmett looked himself, then sighed in frustration. "Great – either he intends to kill the Baron, or he wants to use my existence as some sort of bargaining chip. Neither are attractive options." He turned their ship in the direction of the dock. "We'll have to stop him before he gets too far."

Emily eyed the other small airships. "Do you think they'll give us any trouble?"

"Hope not," Clara said, edging away from the side.

"We'll go as fast as possible," Emmett promised.

They made it through the maze of airships without being shot down or otherwise injured, much to everyone's relief. Emmett gritted his teeth as he approached the dock. "Here goes. Brace yourselves. . . ."

Everyone else grabbed the railings tightly. Metal scraped on metal as Emmett carefully guided the airship in. Moments later, they stopped. Emmett released the controls and wiped the sweat from his face. "We're in."

"Thank God," Holly said, rubbing her temples. "That noise was driving me crazy."

"Probably attracted a bunch of attention too," Marty said, looking nervously over the side.

"Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing. We do want to talk to the Baron. Keep your weapons close at hand, though – just in case."

It didn't take long for someone to show up. A boy about their age jogged into the dock, followed by a group of what appeared to be modified footmen. "Hello there!" the boy called up to them. "Messengers from Sturmhalten?"

"Sort of – we come in peace, at least," Emmett called back. "We're here to speak to Baron Wulfenbach, if possible."

The boy gave them a strange look. "Baron Wulfenbach is in Sturmhalten. Investigating the death of Prince Aaronev."

Emmett barely kept himself from smashing his face into the control panel. _Damn it! Irony, why do you mock me so?!_

Emily, however, zeroed in on something else. "Prince Aaronev is _dead_?!"

The boy lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. "Are you really from Sturmhalten?"

"Not originally, but we did visit," Holly said. "We left about four days ago – when was Aaronev killed?"

The other eyebrow went up. "About four days ago."

The group exchanged a nervous look. "Okay, this isn't looking good for us," Marty muttered. "Look, uh–"

Marty suddenly blinked and leaned over the railing. The boy's hand went to his belt while the footmen formed a tight circle around him. "Holy shit! You must be Gilgamesh Wulfenbach! Can't believe I didn't notice that before. . . ."

"How do you know?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, how?" Emmett said.

"'Cause he looks like you," Marty said. "Remember those people who thought you were him back when we were traveling around on our own? I can see why they thought that now."

"What, really?" Emmett took a closer look himself. Sure enough, the boy bore something of a resemblance to himself, only with a far smaller nose and darker hair. "Oh, wow."

Gilgamesh looked a little surprised himself. "There is a bit of a resemblance. . . . Okay, yes, I am the Baron's son. Now what do you want?"

"Just to talk," Emmett quickly reassured him, not wanting the situation to turn nasty. "Can we disembark, please?"

Gilgamesh hesitated, then nodded. Emmett allowed the girls to climb down first, then came down himself, followed by Marty and Maxim. Gil's eyes widened as he spotted Maxim. "You're traveling with a Jaeger?"

"We're – kind of – together," Holly said with a blush.

There was a snort of laughter from one of the footmen. "No, really," Gil said.

"We are!"

"Believe it or not, she's telling the truth," Emmett said.

"But how–"

"Please, it's not important," Emmett interrupted. "We've got some potentially catastrophic news for you. Though if your father's in Sturmhalten already, he probably knows about most of this."

"Oh?" Gil abruptly brightened. "Is this about a certain Agatha Heterodyne?"

Emmett nearly had a heart attack. "What – how – she said you all thought she was dead!" he blurted, before he could catch himself.

"Father tried to resurrect her," Gil explained. "He was pretty angry when he discovered the body was some mystery girl." His expression turned worried. "But you know Agatha? Is she all right?"

"As far as we know," Holly said. "The last time we saw her, she was on her way to have dinner with Aaronev."

"Sounds like _that_ went horribly wrong, doesn't it?" Marty added.

Gil frowned. "Damn. I do hope she's okay. . .Wooster had better reach her first, that's all I can say. . . ." he muttered.

"Sounds like we got away from Sturmhalten just in time," Emily mumbled, glancing around.

"I know you must be concerned about the situation in Sturmhalten, but we have a bigger problem right here on the ship," Emmett said, not wanting to delay any longer. "The other Sturmhalten airship that just docked was stolen by Othar Tryggvassen. He's on board."

"What? Damn it!" Gil whirled to face the footmen behind him. "You three! Go around and lock every lab you find! The rest of you, alert the rest of the crew and start searching! We can't let him get away again!"

The footmen nodded and raced off. Gil sighed deeply and put a hand to his forehead. "I don't want to deal with this on top of everything else. Why did he have to come _now_?"

"Don't ask us, herr – um – what _do_ you call the heir of a Baron?" Marty asked, puzzled.

"Oh, just call me Gilgamesh. We can worry about formalities once we've dealt with Othar." He looked at them, suddenly suspicious. "Though it's odd you'd come on board to _warn_ us about Othar Tryggvassen. Most of the common people think he's a hero. What's going on?"

"Well, he nearly killed Emmett back in our hometown," Emily admitted. "And he murdered both our mother and Holly's."

". . .Oh."

"Yes, so we're not his biggest fans," Emmett nodded. "And while in Sturmhalten, we overheard a rather disturbing conversation – well, monologue, technically. . . ."

Emmett recounted Othar's confusing speech for Gil. The young man lifted an eyebrow. "Who's Lucy?"

"I believe she's Lucrezia Mongfish, based on the fact he said she had an intimate relationship with the Baron," Emmett said. "I'm starting to suspect either she or her sister had ties to the Other, if one of them weren't the Other themselves."

"Er, not to say anything insulting about your father's taste in women," Marty added hastily.

"Don't worry about it – you wouldn't be the first," Gil said, waving a hand carelessly. "Though how could Lucrezia be the Other? Her sister, I could see possibly, but Bill Heterodyne's wife?"

"I'm just giving you my opinion," Emmett said with a shrug. "I can't be sure of all the facts myself. All I can say is, it looks like Aaronev and Othar could be working toward the Other's purposes. At the very least, Aaronev is harboring Giesterdamen. Other called that place he ended up a Geister chapel."

Gil looked thoughtful. "That is suspicious. Though I've never heard of that chapel before – we've been visiting there a couple of times before."

"They seem to be the secret hideout sort," Marty shrugged. "They hid a weapons locker in their music room."

"Your father's probably taking care of the Sturmvarous family right now," Holly said. "I say we focus on taking out that bastard Othar."

Gil nodded, still frowning thoughtfully. "Do you really think he's working for the Other?"

"Definitely," Emmett nodded. "They're certainly not working at cross-purposes, are they?"

Gil shook his head, though he still looked a bit skeptical. "I knew he was a dangerous lunatic – but advancing the cause of the Other? I don't know if I can believe it."

"Well, dangerous lunatic is a good enough reason to catch him too."

"May we volunteer our services for the hunt?" Holly asked with a large, almost-evil smile. "We've got weapons in the airship and a number of personal grudges against him."

"So you said. Be my guest," Gil said. "Just try not to kill him if you can help it. I think I might make Father a present of his brain once he gets back."

"That's – sweet – of you," Emily said, looking highly disturbed.

"Jah," Maxim said, grinning in a disturbing way. "Hyu iz a good son. Hy'll get our gear."

Gil looked the group over as Maxim retrieved the weapons. "You lot certainly don't look like the typical airship crew. Where are you all from, anyway?"

"Clara's from Passholdt, Marty from Grass Valley," Emily said. "Holly, Emmett, and I are from Hill Valley."

Gil's eyes widened. "Hill Valley?" he repeated.

Emmett suddenly felt uneasy. "Um, yes. . . ." he said, pretty sure what Gil's next question would be.

"And Othar killed your mother? Your father wouldn't happen to be–"

Emmett sighed deeply. "Yes, Elias Von Braun! I swear, we're nothing like him!"

"I don't doubt it. Sounds to me like you got more of our genes."

Emmett went white. "You – know–"

"I found out shortly before we met Agatha – when we captured Othar the first time," Gil explained, grinning faintly. "I couldn't believe I actually had cousins." He paused a moment, the smile fading. "Father was pretty broken up by Sarah's death, you know. It's the only time I've ever seen him cry."

Emmett smacked his forehead. "Damn! I didn't even think he might know about me from Othar already!"

"Why don't you want–"

"Master Gilgamesh!"

One of the footmen came flying in. "We've found Othar. He's in one of the catwalk rooms, the one left of the main gas control room. We managed to bar most of the labs, but he succeeded in setting a few experiments free."

"Damn! Whose labs did he get into?"

"Dr. Pendergloss's, Dr. Trankton's, Dr. Anderson's, and–" the footman swallowed nervously. "And yours, sir."

"_Mine_?! Did he do anything to the constructs I'm working on?" Gil demanded, grabbing the footman's collar."

"No!" the man said quickly, obviously fearing Gil's wrath. "No, they appear to be stable. But he did release the clanks you were planning to fight later."

Gil groaned loudly. "Red _fire_. . .at least my main experiment was untouched. The big room left of the main gas control chamber, you said?" The footman nodded. "All right, I know that place." He looked back at Emmett and his friends. "If you really want to fight Othar, you'd better follow me right now!"

"Lead on!" Emmett said, grabbing his lightning gun from Maxim.

They raced down the halls, following Gil as best they could through the various twists and turns. They made a brief stop at Gil's lab, where, after checking the constructs he was working on, he grabbed a sword. "No death ray?" Marty said, surprised.

"No time," Gil said. "My work with the constructs has kept me pretty busy. I have the plans for one, though."

"Do you really think Othar will get close enough to let you use a sword?" Emmett asked as they resumed their run.

"Probably not," Gil admitted. "But whatever he's released from the labs might. And, frankly, I've always felt a bit more comfortable with swords than with death rays and the like."

"Ever consider combining them?"

"What do you mean?"

Emmett pulled his firesword from his belt and demonstrated. Gil looked impressed. "Not bad."

"Thanks. Imagine what you could do with that lab of yours."

Othar was waiting on one of the catwalks as they entered. "Aha! Gilgamesh! So, you – _you people again_?! What do I have to do to be rid of you?!"

"Kill every last one of us," Emmett told him, checking the charge on his gun. Just a few more seconds. . . .

"If I must, I must," Othar said with a dramatic sigh. "For I am sworn to rid the world of power-hungry, evil–"

"Oh, shut it, you waste of a good roll in the hay!" Holly roared. "Sparkiness does not automatically equal evil! I'd wager that most of the Sparks you've gone after were just kids who hadn't hurt anyone!"

"And I saw what you did in Passholdt!" Clara snarled. "Not many other Sparks would do such an awful thing! Especially to a town they'd supposedly saved!"

"So_ he_ created the monsters infesting Passholdt? Figures," Gil grumbled.

"I was merely trying to dispose of an experiment by a Spark I'd recently defeated! You should thank me – Dr. Clayton was fiddling with slaver wasps!"

Clara's jaw dropped. "Slaver wasps?" she repeated weakly, voice higher than usual.

"Yes, with a man named Snarlantz. That powder was ground wasps and dried venom mixed together. Obviously an attempt to create more revenants!" Othar preened a bit. "I disposed of it properly after killing him, being the good citizen that I am."

"_You_ _dumped it in the water supply_! How is that disposing of it properly?!"

Othar sighed. "The girl is obviously delusional. I'm tiring of these repeated conversations – it's obvious none of you want to listen to reason."

"So let's end it – right here, right now," Emmett said, seeing his gun was finally ready. He swung it upwards and shot a bolt of electricity directly at Othar. The adventurer managed to leap to another catwalk just before it hit. Grumbling, Emmett started to recharge. "Damn, damn damn. . . ."

"Is that the best you have?" Othar said, striking a heroic pose. "Ha! I laugh at your feeble attempts to capture me! Allow me to introduce you to my new companions!" He pulled a large back out from somewhere behind his back and flung it open. "The FLYING PIRANHA FISH!"

A large number of pale blue fish with wing-like fins and huge mouths full of needle-sharp teeth – fell out and flopped helplessly on the floor. The group looked at them, then at Othar. "Forget the water tank, Othar?" Holly asked sweetly.

"Um – ah–"

Maxim jogged forward and picked up one of the fish. It snapped weakly at him, wiggling its fins ineffectually. Maxim swallowed it down mouth-first. "Tasty!" he proclaimed, grinning. "Hy like my food to haff a lettle bite!"

Othar looked distinctly annoyed now. "Well, I was hoping to use this one to take care of the Baron when he arrived, but if I must waste it on you. . . ." He pulled a crude remote off his belt and pressed the solitary button.

A huge, crab-like clank burst from the shadows, scuttling toward the group of heroes. Gilgamesh pushed his way to the front, sword at the ready. "You people focus on Othar! I can handle this!"

"Are you sure?" Emily squeaked, backing into a corner.

"Positive! I've been clearing the Wastelands of these things ever since I thought one killed Agatha!" Gil expertly parried a blow from one of the clank's claws. "Go!"

Emmett, Marty, Holly, Clara, and Maxim ran around the clank, Emmett releasing another bolt of electricity. Othar dodged that one as well, though it was a closer call for him than the first. "You can't run forever!" Marty snapped as he, Holly, and Clara began laying down a curtain of bullets and energy blasts.

Other flattened himself against the catwalk to avoid the spray. "Neither can you! I promise you, this will be our final battle! I will destroy you all!" He yanked free his own gun and returned fire, forcing the group to split apart to avoid the rays.

"We've survived worse than _you_," Emmett told him coldly. "We know who you work for, Othar!"

"Everyone does! I work for myself!"

"So you admit it!"

"Admit what, you vapid boy?"

"That you're related to the Other!"

Othar froze. "Wha–"

"That's right! I overheard your conversation with Lucy! We know the truth!" Emmett smirked nastily. "You should really learn to control your temper better, _Belinda_."

There was a long moment of silence. Then Othar's face twisted into a very ugly scowl. "Think you're pretty smart, don't you?" he hissed – in a distinctly _feminine_ voice.

Marty nearly dropped his gun in shock. "Holy shit, he's _right_?!"

"Unfortunately," Othar snarled, using the distraction to score a hit through Marty's sleeve. The teen yelped as the beam seared his flesh and promptly resumed firing.

"But – how?" Holly asked, eyes wide.

"Before those nasty Heterodyne Boys showed up, I made a special slaver wasp and put all my memories and knowledge into it – with Lucy's help, of course. It was our back-up plan in case something happened to Lucy and she couldn't get to that brat Agatha in time, but – believe me, I was _not_ looking to end up male!" He – she – leapt to her feet abruptly. "I mean, look at me!"

BANG! Othar yelped as a bullet hit her shoulder. Holly smiled cruelly up at her. "Well then, wouldn't killing you be a mercy?"

Othar scowled. "I've managed this long," she said, returning fire. Holly ducked away, though her skirt took a few hits. "And now, I'll destroy you all!"

Emmett was about to snap back, "You already said that," when something collided with him. He fell to the floor with Maxim on top of him. "What–"

A fireball shot through the space he'd been standing in. ". . .Oh. Thank you."

Maxim nodded. "Dat clenk has lots ov surprises. Ve gots to be careful."

"I don't doubt it." They got back to their feet as Othar tried to outrun a fresh barrage of gunfire from Marty, Clara, and Holly. Emmett angrily smacked his lightning gun. "Power up, damn it! I should really add the option of regular fire to this thing."

"I see you've got the same recharging problems I had," Gil commented, risking a glance over. He and the clank's front claws were still locked in mortal combat. The young man's sword was moving so fast, it was almost a blur. The same was true of his feet. "Wish you'd told me earlier, I could have lent you something to reduce it."

"It's all right." Emmett whistled, impressed, as he watched Gil. "To have reflexes like that. . . ."

A second fireball and another hard shove from Maxim reminded him he was still in the middle of a firefight. Looking around, he saw a ladder to his left. He ran over, dodging both Othar's fire and one of the clank's side claws. He climbed up onto the catwalk, awkwardly using his gun to grab the higher rungs. _It needs a shoulder strap too, come to think of it. . . ._

"Emmett? What do you think you're doing?!" Emily demanded, still cowering in her corner.

"Taking away Othar's height advantage!" Emmett yelled back.

Othar laughed. "I don't need height to kill you!" She turned her gun on him as he ducked. "Your weapon is useless against me!"

"Only because of the damned charge time. Besides, I've got a backup!" He pulled his own sword and charged her, keeping his head well below the energy blasts.

Othar parried the blow with her gun. She and Emmett struggled for a few minutes, Emmett trying to stab her, Othar trying to block. She finally managed to grab the sword with her free hand, the point just inches from her face. "Hah!"

Click. "AUUGH!"

Emmett grinned coldly as Othar released his sword and began trying to extinguish the fire on her head. On the ground, Maxim burst into laughter. "Hyu might be vun ov de fun vuns after all!"

Othar finally managed to put out the flames by rolling on the ground. Marty tried to get in another free shot, but an axe popping out from the side of the clank forced him to dodge instead. "You want to hurry up and _kill_ this thing?!" he yelled at Gilgamesh.

"I'm trying!" Gil snapped back, leaping over a claw. "I didn't get a chance to look at this one closely before I heard about Agatha! I don't know all of its surprises!"

"Clara, Maxim, you've both got pretty quick reflexes," Holly said. "Why don't you give Gil a hand? We'll never get a good shot at Othar if we have to keep dodging stuff from the clank."

Clara ran over immediately, but Maxim paused, glancing up at Emmett. The teen nodded, swinging at the recovering Othar. "Do it, Maxim! Holly, Marty, and I can take care of our body-possessing friend."

Maxim grinned and turned toward the machine, launching at it with claws extended. Gil frowned, puzzled. "Since when do Jaegers take orders from you?" he called, spinning out of the way of another fireball.

"Must be my Wulfenbach blood," Emmett lied quickly.

Othar, however, wasn't going to let him get away with that. "I doubt it's that so much as your _Heterodyne_ blood," she said, parrying his blows again.

Gil nearly dropped his sword in shock. As it was, Clara had to pull him out of the way of one of the claws. "_Heterodyne_?!"

"She's making things up," Marty said, trying not to look too ill at ease.

"Hah! Emmett announced it himself, during their attempted escape from Aaronev! Shocked a lot of people, let me tell you!"

"I was upset!" Emmett snarled, finally getting his sword past Othar's defenses and into her arm. "I would have claimed to be the Other if it meant he would release us! He didn't believe me anyway!"

Othar yelped, then shot Emmett in the shoulder. The teen cried out and dropped his sword. "Aaronev didn't know the Heterodynes like I did! Your little speech up there reminded me of Barry at his worst!" She smirked at Gil. "I might be lying – but do you really want to take that chance? A Heterodyne heir related to you! Dearest Klaus would be thrilled!" She looked around. "Where is he, anyway? Surely this commotion would have caught his attention by now."

"He's in Sturmhalten," Gil told her, going back to his sword fight with the clank. Clara and Maxim started working on pulling off one of the side panels, hoping to expose the inner workings. "Investigating suspicious circumstances there."

Othar stared for a second. "So I came _all this way_ to kill him, and he–" She huffed, eyes narrowed. "Well, I suppose your corpses will make an excellent 'welcome back' present!" She grinned at Emmett, who was holding his shoulder tightly, and raised her gun to his face. "Do you prefer a ribbon or a bow?"

"Go to hell," Emmett said, trying to reach for his lightning gun. He just wasn't quite close enough. . . .

"Emmett! Hold onto something!"

A minuscule vial of glowing yellow liquid came soaring onto the catwalk. Emmett quickly grabbed the railing and closed his eyes tightly. Othar backed away a bit, frowning. "What's–"

BOOM! The explosion blew out the catwalk's supports, bringing the left end down with a bang. Othar tumbled head over feet a few times before grabbing the railing herself. "Great shot, Hol!" Marty grinned, sending a few more bullets Othar's way.

Othar scowled, getting her bearings back. "Yes. Too bad it'll be her last!" She whipped up her gun and shot Holly. Holly tried to dodge, but was just a little too slow. She screamed as the blast tore through her side.

Maxim's head shot up from the clank. "Holly?!"

"I'm all right!" Holly said, trying to ignore the bleeding wound. "It just stung, that's all."

Othar shook her head. "No matter how many times I see something tender between you two, it's still disturbing."

"This from the woman trapped as a man."

"At least this isn't voluntary!"

Emmett slowly got up, keeping one hand tight over his shoulder. Othar didn't appear to have hit anything important, which was extremely lucky, but it still hurt like hell. His lightning gun was lying at the base of the catwalk, perilously close to Othar. If she got her hands on it. . . . "Maxim, why don't you have some fun and keep her busy?" he called over, sliding down the catwalk. "Just remember to leave her alive for the Baron."

Maxim beamed and drew his sword again. "Tanks! Hy hunt!" he roared, coming at Othar swinging.

Othar ducked under his blow, then ran for cover near the clank, which was still spitting the occasional fireball. "You all really think you can defeat me?" she said. "I've beaten far better than you lot! You all – you're – I–" Seemingly at a loss for regular insults, she began yelling at them in some sort of nonsense language.

Clara finally managed to get the panel off the side of the clank. She promptly threw it straight at Othar's head. "Gil! Over here!"

"Thank you!" Gil ducked under one of the claws, dodged a mallet that popped out of the side, and buried his sword in the exposed wires and gears. The clank sparked, screeched, and shut down. Gil took a deep breath and brushed his hair back. "Incidentally, I prefer to have my insults yelled at me in regular language," he told Othar, wrenching his sword free again. "Even being evil, you should know that's very rude."

"You can make up better combinations in this one," Othar smirked, climbing on top of the clank to avoid Maxim's claws.

"What did you say, anyway?" Clara asked, attempting to pull off another panel for a fresh weapon.

"Like I'm going to tell you."

"I thought I recognized the words 'whore' and 'moronic bastard,'" Gil said, looking thoughtful even as he tried to stab at Othar. "Most of it seems to be nonsense sounds, though."

Othar blinked rapidly. "You – you understood me?" she asked, dancing away from the sword point.

"Sort of – it sounded a bit like whatever language my father swore in when I was little and he didn't want me to understand him."

"What's the problem now?" Holly snapped, holding her side. "Wouldn't a Baron's son know a few obscure languages?"

"But – she – they – they promised – and Milvistle went with – And they don't–"

"Yes?" Gil prompted, waving a hand. "Get on with it so we can get back to killing each other."

Othar's expression changed to the nastiest scowl they'd ever seen. "You want your insults in regular language? Fine! I don't know how it happened, but it appears the rumors _are_ true," she hissed, lifting her gun. "Gilgamesh really is the _SON OF A BITCH_!"

"Don't you talk about my mother that way!" Gil snarled back, slashing with his sword and scoring a cut on Othar's leg.

"Whoever she is, I'll talk about her any way I want! She betrayed the lot of us!"

"You're not seriously suggesting Gil's mother was in league with you and your sister?" Emmett demanded, shocked.

"We_ thought_ she was! Obviously we were wrong!" Othar glanced back at Gil, muttering, "Could it have even been Milvistle? I've only seen reflexes like that on a giesterdame."

"I don't believe you!" Gil yelled. "My mother would have never been on your side!"

"Believe what you like – I'm going to kill you regardless!" She started spinning, firing at everyone in range. Those who could return fire did, while those who couldn't ducked and dodged.

Marty was one of the latter, having finally run out of bullets. "Shit," he swore. "Of all the luck. . . ." He looked over at Emmett, who had finally managed to retrieve his lightning gun. "I'm going to try and go for help. It's stupid nobody's shown up yet!"

"I suspect they figure it's best to let Gil deal with him – her – _it_. Be careful." Marty nodded and started running for the exit.

Unfortunately, Othar spotted him. She whipped around, punched Maxim in the mouth when he came for her, and fired.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion for Emmett. One moment, Marty was running – then, out of nowhere, there was a huge, bloody hole in his chest. The teenager collapsed, a look of shock and pain frozen on his face. Emmett's heart froze in horror. _No. . .oh, God, no. . .not Marty. . . ._

Othar laughed. "Ha! What do you think of that, my little Heterodyne heir? How about I take our your construct sex toy next?" She began focusing her efforts on Clara, who sought cover near one of the clank's claws.

Rage like he had never known filled Emmett. He couldn't – he _wouldn't_ let Othar take away another person he cared about. Not again. Not _ever_ again.

He rose slowly to his feet, keeping a tight grip on his lightning gun. He made his way over to the clank, ignoring the chaos around him. Othar barely noticed his approach, too involved with alternately trying to shoot Clara and fend off Maxim and Gil.

Emmett circled around to the exposed panel, opening up the inner workings of his gun as he did. He connected some of the wires from inside the clank to the ones inside his gun. It was a crude link, formed by twisting, but as long as he touched nothing metal during the discharge. . . . Making sure the gun was adequately charged, he aimed the barrel directly at Othar's head. "**Maxim – **_**MOVE**_**!**"

Startled, Maxim jumped off the clank. Othar finally noticed Emmett and laughed. "You called _off_ your best fighter? What are you going to do now?"

"**This,**" Emmett hissed, firing.

Othar's laughter turned into a scream of pain. There was a spectacular light show as Emmett drained the clank's power into Othar's body. Everyone's hair stood on end from the sheer amount of electricity in the air.

Finally, Emmett turned off the gun. Othar wavered for a moment, body burned and blackened nearly beyond recognition. Then she fell, hitting the floor with a very final-sounding thud.


	12. A Modest Proposal

Chapter 12

Saturday, April 4th, 1895

Castle Wulfenbach Airspace

6:02 A.M.

There was a long moment of silence as everyone stared at Othar, watching for the slightest sign of life. None came. Finally, Gil sighed. "I think it's over."

"Thank God," Clara said, coming out from behind the clank's claw. "Emmett, are you all right?"

Emmett didn't reply. Instead, he set his gun down and walked toward the center of the room. Marty was lying there, face down in a pool of blood. Emmett knelt next to him and gently turned him over. Marty's eyes stared blankly back at him. A little blood still dripped from the hole in his chest. Shuddering, Emmett closed his friend's eyes. "Marty, I'm – I'm so sorry. . . ."

Holly went over and put an arm around him as he began to cry. "He died a noble death," she said softly. "He died trying to help you."

"He shouldn't have died at _all_!"

Emmett yanked away from Holly, eyes ablaze with a mixture of rage and grief. "Damn it, why did you all have to follow me? Why didn't you let me go on alone when all of this started? At least that way, I would have been sure all of you were safe! I could have lost _all_ of you today! You, Emily, Clara, even Maxim – all of you!"

"Emmett," Clara started.

"No! Don't say anything! I know!" He wiped his face roughly. "What did I tell you before? A goddamned target on my blasted back!"

"Emmett, it's going to be all right," Holly tried again, reaching for him.

Emmett pulled back. "No. You know that's not true."

"But–"

"I don't care! All that matters is, thanks to me, one of my best friends is _dead_! And not one of you can understand that!" Sobbing, Emmett turned and fled the room.

"Emmett! Wait!" Clara raced after him.

Holly winced. "Ugh. _That_ went well. . . ."

Maxim shook his head. "He iz vun strange Heterodyne. Even for de Heterodynes."

A mutton-chopped man with four arms entered the room at this point, followed closely by a number of men all wearing sailor hats that read "Castle Wulfenbach." He looked over the bloody scene with a critical eye. "Herr Gilgamesh, have I missed some excitement?"

"You have no idea, Boris," Gil said wearily, leaning against the clank.

"Thank God. How should we handle the clean-up, then?"

"Take the clank back to my lab," Gil started. "These people – and Jaeger – should go to the hospital wing immediately." He pointed at Othar's body. "And I want _that_ burned to ashes and scattered off the side of the airship. My father may have wanted to study his brain, but I don't want to take the chance of him coming back _ever_ again."

Boris frowned thoughtfully at the corpse. "Is that Othar Tryggvassen?"

"_And_ Belinda Mongfish." Boris stopped writing for a moment and raised an eyebrow. "I'll explain later, Boris. I also need someone to track down two people and bring them to the hospital wing – a brunette female construct and a blond male Spark. The latter has a gunshot wound in his shoulder, so he should have left a trail of blood. . . ."

As Gil continued issuing commands, some of the crewmen escorted Holly, Maxim, and the shell-shocked Emily out of the room. A few others grabbed Othar's body and towed it away to be incinerated. "Hey, what about this kid?" another called, seeing Marty's dead body.

Gil looked over. "Bring him to my – no, my _father's_ lab. Put him in the cold room. I'll be by later."

Boris frowned. "The cold room? You want to try and resurrect him?"

Gilgamesh nodded. "Yes." He looked back at Marty. "Do you remember how upset I was when I thought Miss Clay had died? How I blamed myself for letting her get away?"

Boris blinked at the apparent subject shift. "Um, yes. Quite clearly."

"I don't want anyone else to have to go through that." Gil started for the hospital wing himself. "The cold room. As close as possible to my father's other project."

Saturday, April 4th

6:08 A.M.

Clara found Emmett one hallway over, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. She walked toward him hesitantly. "Emmett?" she asked softly, scared he'd run again.

Emmett looked up. "You should go," he said, his voice strangled. "If you stay with me, you're only going to get hurt."

Clara sat down beside him. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, putting an arm around him. "I love you, Emmett. I want to help you."

Emmett was silent for a moment, staring at his hands. "We wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him," he finally said.

"Pardon?"

"Marty. I had my Breakthrough in my father's stables. If Marty hadn't been there, I probably would have ended up full of lead. He saved my life." Emmett sighed deeply. "And he stuck by me through everything else too. The Wastelands, Passholdt, Sturmhalten. It would have been so easy for him to sell me out after I blew up at Aaronev. But he didn't. He was terrified of my temper, of what I could have been – could still be – but he stood by me anyway." Emmett sniffed. "And now, because of that, he's dead."

Clara thought about giving him a comforting squeeze, but thought better of it when she remember the wound in his shoulder. She settled for running her fingers along his arm. "Emmett, that wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was! I had to try and play the hero! I had to try and take out Othar Tryggvassen! If only I'd insisted you all stay behind–"

"We would have called you insane and come along anyway," Clara finished for him. "And if we hadn't followed Othar, he – she– whoever it was – would still be out there wreaking havoc on Sparks. Not to mention perhaps starting up the Other's reign of terror again." Emmett started to speak, but she shushed him. "You couldn't have known Othar would pull off that shot. Like Holly said, Marty died trying to help you. If it had been me–"

"Oh, God, Clara, don't say it." Emmett sniffled again. "Why did I have to be a Heterodyne?" he whispered miserably. "Why did I have to inherit the urge to try and fix things?"

Clara put her other arm around him. "It'll all be all right," she whispered soothingly. "You'll see. We've still got each other, at least."

Emmett nodded, then pulled her close, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. "Don't _you_ go anywhere. I love you, Clara. Don't ever leave me."

"I won't. I love you too, Emmett."

Monday, April 6th, 1895

Castle Wulfenbach

4:38 P.M.

"Uhhhh. . . ."

Marty weakly licked his dry lips. He felt _awful_. His limbs were cold and stiff, his head and chest ached, and everything felt like it weighed ten times more than it should. _Where am I? What happened?_ he thought, forcing open his eyes. The blank white ceiling above him didn't give him any answers. _Owww. . . ._

"Ah, good, you're awake." Gilgamesh's face suddenly appeared above him, looking thoughtful. "I had a feeling it would be soon. How do you feel?"

"Awful," Marty said, his voice raspy. He paused as a new feeling forced its way to the forefront of his mind. "_Hungry_!"

"Yes, I've heard that's a common complaint. I brought you some soup from the galley – I don't want to start you on solids just yet." There was the click of a lever being pulled, and the top of Marty's bed tilted upwards, giving him a better view of the room. Now he could see he was in some sort of laboratory. Various odds and ends of machinery lined the walls, along with plenty of body parts in jars – Marty tried not to look at those. Gil was standing by his side, dressed in a simple shirt and pants covered by a bloodstained apron. He was holding a tray with a soup bowl on it. Just the smell of the food made Marty's head swim. He licked his lips eagerly as Gil set the bowl in front of him. "Now take it easy," Gil warned. "You're still weak, and I really don't want to have to clean up any vomit."

Marty barely paid attention to the words, happily plunging in. It felt so good to get something in his stomach, even if it was liquid. "Thanks," he said between gulps.

Gil gave him a slight smile. "Not a problem. I'm just glad I could help."

Marty nodded. "So, where am I?"

"My father's main lab. The rest of your friends are recovering in the medical wing."

"Oh. So Othar – Belinda – whoever the hell it was – is dead?"

"Very. Emmett fried her with his lightning gun. We cremated the body and scattered the ashes." Gil glanced around. "And even with that, I'm still half-expecting her to pop up somewhere."

Marty chuckled, then frowned. "Emmett fried her? I don't remember that. . . . How long have I been out for?"

Gil frowned too, then sighed. "Marty, what's your last memory of the fight?"

Marty thought. He'd just discovered he was out of bullets. . .he'd decided to risk a run to get help and had told Emmett so. . .he'd been within feet of the exit. . .then there was this sudden, horrific pain in his chest, and –

The spoon dropped with a clatter onto the tray. Marty didn't notice, too busy staring into space as he remembered the darkness, the nothingness. "Oh my God. I – I – I _died_. . . ."

His gaze shot to his chest. On the left side was a large patch of skin, stitched in. It was a shade tanner than his natural skintone, but otherwise fit in surprisingly well. Marty ran his fingers over it, feeling the rough edges and the beat of his heart – his _new_ heart – underneath. He glanced back up at Gil, trying to decide with question to ask first.

Gil offered him a tight-lipped smile. "You're a pretty lucky guy, Marty. I had a heart about your size available from a failed project of my father's. And it was a fairly easy transplant – the original organ was obliterated completely, so no need to remove old tissue. Belinda had good taste in weapons."

"I'm – I'm a construct now?" Marty said softly, trying to wrap his brain around it.

"In the loosest sense of the word, yes. I've always figured a construct has to be built from the ground up to properly qualify, but. . . ." Gil shrugged. "Does that bother you? We've had issues before with the resurrected."

Marty looked back down at the patch. He wasn't sure how he felt. He'd seen constructs – hell, he'd traveled with a few in Clara and Maxim – but to be one himself? It was kind of creepy to know you'd been dead and brought back.

Then again, being just plain dead was a whole new level of horror. He remembered how all-consuming the darkness had been, then how there was just nothing between him hitting the floor and waking up here. . . . "It's weird, but all things considered, I'd much rather be alive," Marty said, going back to his soup. "Thanks for bringing me back."

Gil smiled, more genuinely. "Well, I couldn't leave my cousin's best friend dead, could I?"

Marty weakly grinned back. "Yeah. How is Emmett?"

Gil's smile faded. "He's not doing very well. Physically, he's all right – Othar didn't hit anything important when she shot him in the shoulder, thank God. But he's very broken up over your death. He blames himself for the whole fiasco."

Marty shook his head. "Me – dying–" he shuddered "– was my own stupid fault. I thought Maxim had Othar distracted enough for me to make the run. I should have stayed lower."

"Never underestimate Othar Tryggvassen," Gil said severely. "In fact, never underestimate any Spark ever. Every time my Father has, something ends up either exploding or igniting – at the _least_."

Marty chuckled. "I'll remember that for next time."

There was a brief silence as Marty finished his soup. "So, do my friends know that you were trying to bring me back?" he finally asked as Gil took the tray back.

"Not yet," Gil said. "Resurrection is kind of tricky, even under the best of circumstances. I didn't want to raise everybody's hopes without making sure I really _could_ bring you back."

"Oh. Well, now that I _am_ back–"

"I need to make sure you're in proper working condition first," Gil cut him off. "Then I'll let everyone know. I have a proposition for you lot anyway, so I'll reintroduce you when I bring that up."

Marty wasn't sure if he agreed with holding off the news, but it seemed a bad idea to argue with the man who had just brought you back from the dead. He shrugged. "Okay, but don't put it off too long."

"This should only take a day or two at maximum," Gil promised. "I don't want to put it off any longer than necessary myself."

Marty nodded – then suddenly had a horrible thought. "Uh – Gil? I – I will still be able to play guitar, right?"

Gil grinned. "Yes, that shouldn't be a problem. The blast didn't affect anything except your heart."

"Which was enough to knock me out of commission," Marty said, feeling the patch job again. "A construct. . .boy, if my Dad could see me now. . . ."

"I hope he wasn't like Elias."

"The complete opposite, actually. He knew every Heterodyne story by heart. Even made up his own."

"Really?" Gil sat on the edge of the bed, looking interested. "Did my father always get the worst parts?"

"Not always. . . ."

Wednesday, April 8th, 1895

Castle Wulfenbach

3:16 P.M.

Emmett stared at the metal table as he and his friends waited for Gil to show up. He felt almost completely numb inside. He didn't know what the Baron's heir wanted to see them about, and he really didn't care. What did anything matter, now that Marty was dead?

He sighed softly. The past few days had been something of a blur. He vaguely remembered staying in the hospital wing after talking to Clara, and of being hugged and comforted multiple times. Basic instinct had forced him to eat and sleep. Mostly, though, he'd sat on his temporary bed and stared into space, one thought swirling around in his brain: _Marty is dead. Marty is dead, and it's all my fault. Oh, Marty, wherever you are, please, forgive me. . . ._

He felt Clara's hand take his own, and glanced up at her gratefully. She smiled at him. At least she was still there. God knows what might have happened if he had lost both her and Marty. It was mostly her presence that had kept him from killing himself. _Thank God for you, Clara,_ he thought, squeezing her hand gently. _Don't ever leave me._

Gil finally entered the room, looking a bit disheveled. "Sorry for the wait," he said, sitting down. "One of my projects required a little extra attention."

"It's all right, Gil," Holly said. "What did you want to see us about?"

Gil leaned back in his chair, regarding the group seriously. "I have a business proposition for you. Emmett, you said before you didn't want my father to know of your existence."

"Exactly," Emmett said, finally lifting his eyes from the table. "If he knew his nephew was also one of the last Heterodynes – well, I'd never have a life of my own again. After – Othar–" he _hated_ saying that name "– I don't really want to have to go into the hero business full-time."

Gil nodded. "I suppose I can understand that – Agatha felt much the same way. And that _would_ be the sort of thing my father would do."

"I hope this means you won't tell him," Clara said, looking nervous.

"That's what this meeting is about." Gil leaned forward again. "You see, my father has a lot of spies scattered all over Europa Wulfenbach. It's his main way of figuring out what's going on. I've decided I wouldn't mind having my own personal set, especially after this debacle with Sturmhalten. If _I'd_ gotten the news first, maybe. . . ." Gil stopped and sighed. "The point is, since all of you have traveled through the Wastelands and lived, I thought you could be my spies."

"You want us to work for you?" Holly said, surprised.

"Essentially. You'd be free to go wherever you want – you can even keep that airship you 'borrowed' from the Sturmvarouses. God knows they won't be needing it for a while. What I want in return is reports of what's going on in any place you visit. Town, city, Wastelands, whatever. You keep me informed, and I'll keep mum about Emmett."

The group looked at each other. "Sounds fair enough to me," Holly said.

"Same here," Emmett agreed. "What's the time frame you want for the reports? Daily, weekly, monthly?"

"Monthly should be sufficient. Though if anything big happens, I want to hear about it right away."

"Can do."

"How are hyu gonna keep your poppa from findink out?" Maxim asked, frowning. "De Baron iz a schmot guy. Very schmot."

Gil grimaced. "That won't be a problem at the moment, but for later – I'll set up a contact here for you to send the letters to. Probably one of the kitchen staff, Father doesn't bother with them too much. . . ."

"I could do that."

Everyone turned to look at Emily in surprise. She smiled weakly. "You all know I'm no good at adventuring. I completely froze up in that final fight. I'd much rather stay here than risk another Sturmhalten. I'm sorry, I know I'm the one who said we should all stay together, but–"

"It's all right, Emily," Holly said reassuringly. "We'll miss you, of course, but if you don't feel safe. . . ."

"Yeah. I am sorry." Emily looked over at Emmett. "You – you'll be all right, won't you?"

Emmett nodded. "Of course. I'll miss you always, but – it's probably for the best you stay away from me."

"Oh, Emmett, I didn't mean it like _that–_" Emily rushed to say.

"I know you didn't," Emmett cut her off. He sighed. "I want you to be safe, Emily. And if this is where you feel safest, then this is where you should stay. Far better than forcing you on the road, where you could be–" he stopped, shuddered, and looked back down at the table. "Yes, well, here the Baron can protect you, even if he doesn't know who you are."

Emily nodded, looking embarrassed. "Yes, and – and at least here I'll be more useful to the group."

"All right then," Gil said, nodding and waving a hand. "Emily will be the contact point. I hope you can cook."

"Not as well as Holly, but I can hold my own."

"That'll do." Gil held out a hand to Emmett. "We have a deal, Mr. Brown?"

Emmett shook it. "We have a deal, Herr Wulfenbach."

Gil smiled. "Great. You can start whenever you want."

"Which is as soon as possible," Holly said. "We have no idea when your father's going to get back."

Gil seemed to wince slightly. "Er, like I said, that won't be a problem at the moment. Though, yes, as soon as possible would be ideal. We're heading toward Mechanicsburg, and we'll need to drop you off before we get there. I've got to leave myself tomorrow; my father rather urgently needs me. Sturmhalten wasn't kind to him either."

"We need a little time to get supplies, though," Clara reminded him.

"We have plenty of those on-board. The storerooms are open to you if you need them."

"Hokay. Ve should be ready to go by tomorrow afternoon," Maxim said with a grin.

"That sounds good," Holly agreed.

"I'll bake you all lots to take with you," Emily said.

"Thanks." Emmett sighed deeply. "You know, when I first got here, I expected I would want to spend years on board – investigating the labs, perhaps secretly claiming one for my own for a while. . . . Now, I can't wait to leave."

Clara squeezed his hand. "It'll stop hurting eventually, Emmett."

"Not soon enough." Emmett pulled his hand free and leaned on it. "I wish I could go back in time and stop all this from ever happening."

"Well, you still have that flux capacitor idea of yours."

Emmett froze, eyes huge. Then, slowly, he turned to face the door. Leaning against the frame was a very familiar teenager. Marty grinned at him. "Seems like overkill now, though."

There was a moment of silence. Then – "MARTY!"

Marty was nearly bowled over by six feet of overexcited teenager crashing into him. "Ack! Easy, Emmett!"

"Sorry, I – Oh, God, I missed you!" Emmett babbled, hugging Marty tightly. "I'm so sorry for everything, Marty. I'm so sorry I let that bitch shoot you."

"It's okay, Emmett. It was my own stupid fault I ended up shot."

"Ah – what – but – how?" Emily stuttered, gaping.

Clara, however, smiled at Gil. "You know, I was wondering if you were going to resurrect him. It just didn't seem sporting to leave him dead on the castle of one of the greatest Sparks in history."

"Can't believe we didn't even think of that," Holly said, smacking her forehead. "We _know_ resurrection exists. . .well, at any rate, it's great to see you again, Marty."

Maxim gave Marty a friendly slap on the back. "Yah, goot to haff hyu beck! De master vas no fon at all vitout hyu around."

"Heh – yeah, Gil told me all about it."

Emmett turned and gave Gil his own bone-crushing hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome," Gil said, looking a bit embarrassed. "It wasn't much, really."

"Not much?! You brought my best friend back from the dead! I don't know how I'll ever repay you. . . ."

"Just work for me and we'll call it even."

Holly, Emily, and Clara lined up to give Marty their own hugs. "How do you feel?" Clara asked. "I was a mess after my resurrection."

"All right. Though I never want to see soup again."

Clara chuckled. "I know the feeling well."

"Did Gil tell you about the plan?" Holly asked.

"Yeah, I thought it was a good idea. You're not coming with us though, Emily?"

Emily shook her head. "I'm not cut out for a life of excitement. Kitchen duty on Castle Wulfenbach is my limit." She suddenly frowned. "Although, on that note – what exactly will all of _you_ be doing?"

Tuesday, June 30th, 1895

Underpont

5:25 P.M.

"Welcome, one and all, to the Emmett Brown Traveling Electrical Show!"

Bursts of lightning shot out from the two oversized Tesla coils that formed the gate into the clearing. Clara grinned at the amazed crowd. "Many marvels await you inside! Electrical devices of every kind on display! Magical tricks and tests the likes of which you've never seen! Creatures and creations that have only been whispered about! And, of course, mastery over the elements like no one has had before! All this and so much more awaits you inside! Come in, one and all!"

The crowd of people cheered, then swarmed into the clearing. Emmett walked up to Clara with a smile as the visitors fanned out. "Wonderful speech, my dear."

"Thank you, darling." They kissed. "Have you finished your letter to Emily and Gil yet?"

"Almost. I just have to wrap up the episode with Dr. Volton's singing squid."

"He was an odd one," Clara nodded. "Though a lot friendlier than some of the others we've met."

"I know, I was glad." Emmett shook his head. "It really _is_ in my blood to try and help people, isn't it?"

Clara chuckled. "That's what we've been telling you. I knew you wouldn't be able to turn away from anyone in need. Not after I saw you nearly get yourself killed at Passholdt."

"I honestly thought I was through. After Marty was – killed–" Emmett shivered a bit; he _still_ hated even mentioning that "– I swore to myself, no more. Then we hit Crakerston, and they had that problem with the plague of eels, and – well – I couldn't just stand idly by."

Clara patted his back. "It's fine, Emmett. None of us mind helping stop the bad guys. After Othar, they're all pretty small fry, aren't they?"

"Tell me about it." Emmett's face darkened. "I just wish we could stop Elias now. That man seems to have inherited Othar's luck."

"Well, maybe Agatha will be able to bring him down."

"Agatha?" Emmett snorted. "Agatha's got _lots_ bigger fish to fry than we do. After all that's happened with _her_, Elias wouldn't even register."

"You don't know that."

"No, but I do know she's extremely busy. Sturmhalten really turned the world upside-down."

Clara nodded, suddenly looking very serious. "Emmett? Do you think that – that your father really appeared there?"

Emmett sighed and shook his head. "It had to be a trick. No matter how much I want to believe my father and uncle are alive, the story is just too fantastic to believe." He frowned. "Besides, how do you explain the two plumbers who were apparently with them? Why would the Heterodyne Boys – or Agatha – have _plumbers_?"

"If we ever meet up with Agatha again, we'll have to ask her."

There was a loud crackling noise from behind them. "Hah! Iz dat all hyu've got?"

Emmett and Clara looked over. "Speaking of Agatha and her retainers, there's a long line at the Shock-A-Jaeger exhibit," Clara noted. "I hope Maxim comes out all right."

"He's been fine with much longer lines," Emmett reassured her. "That shock's set fairly low for Jaeger standards."

"I know, but still – sometimes I worry he'll snap and go for the crowd."

"Which is why we set up Holly's exhibit right next to his. If anyone has a chance of containing him, it's her. And those straps are pretty tough." Emmett smiled over at his friend, who was wowing the crowds with a fireworks display. "Holly's got quite the crowd herself tonight. Those fireworks are more popular than I thought."

"Poor Marty doesn't have many people though," Clara said, glancing over at Marty's wagon.

"That'll change once he hits his stride. He really is a whiz on that guitar." Emmett looked over too. "To think I almost never heard his music again. . . ."

"Emmett, don't get like that," Clara said, hugging him tightly. "I don't like it when you get depressed."

"Neither do I," Emmett said. "I'm so glad Gil decided to bring him back." He waved at Marty, who waved back before launching into one of his famous Heterodyne Boys songs. "See, there go the people now. Knock 'em dead, Marty!"

Clara chuckled. "He really is amazing."

"The best. Though I wish he'd let me look at his guitar. I'd only alter it a little. . . ."

"'Alter it a little' is what you said about the coffee maker. I think Marty has a right to be nervous." Emmett rolled his eyes.

They watched their friends for a little while, enjoying the performances. Then Clara checked her watch. "It's almost time for your first show," she reported.

Emmett checked his own watches. "You're right. I'd better get up there and get ready.

Clara kissed his cheek. "Knock them dead."

"I'll do my best." Emmett grinned at her, then walked into the maze of Tesla coils, super conductors, and lightning generators that made up the main stage. A few minutes later, brilliant bolts of electricity lit the twilight sky as Emmett cackled madly. Clara smiled as the crowds rushed over. Her Emmett could certainly put on quite the show.

"Hey! Can you hook _these_ up to the Jaeger?"

Now if only people would stop asking that. . . .

The End


End file.
